


and love you still

by ToyBoxOfSuz



Series: The Familiar Chronicles [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Mage Stiles Stilinski, Past Lives, Reincarnation, Spells & Enchantments
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-02
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-01 07:05:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 26,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14515038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToyBoxOfSuz/pseuds/ToyBoxOfSuz
Summary: Stiles Stilinski is a magically talented teenager who had to let go of his familiar Peter five years ago. He chose to summon him again to find out why they are seeing golden colored skies in their dreams.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Much thanks to Evy for proofreading it for me!
> 
> This is the second part of this fic:<https://archiveofourown.org/works/3375611/chapters/7383272> without it, there may be some confusion reading this part.

 

Arriving back to the Astral Plane Peter was prepared for the house to welcome him with its usual eerie gloom. He was prepared to be hit by the burned smell and the creaks and cracking sounds of the old building wanting to collapse. But it never did. The house was burned down and always just on the verge of collapsing. Yet, staying inside made Peter somewhat scared. He quickly walked through it, back to the garden where the noises and the smell weren’t too significant so he could get a little rest. Getting the pact eliminated and being burned, being torn away from his master this time made him even more breathless than before. It didn’t make sense.

Peter looked around the Astral Plane, on the plane he was banished to and he hated it just a little bit more. There were no _things_ on the Astral Plane. And yet the tree he’d left in the garden with only just one bud was green all over. Hundreds of buds and small leaves waiting for their time to bloom and Peter was terrified.

The tree on the Astral Plane which was budding, the fox without a master, but calling Stiles one, the sky which had the wrong color... All of it was something that put Peter into deep unease. Into something he felt helpless to act against, thus angry. He was so old he didn’t remember his exact age, he walked on many different Planes, he took maybe hundreds of Masters and he knew he killed maybe just as many. And now something was changing, something was shifting and he couldn’t exactly explain what. Or how.

“Aw, now this is cute.” Yet again a voice was talking to Peter from all directions at once. But this time he knew whose voice it was. The wolf cocked his chin up, looking around, wherever the fox could be.

Foxes could travel Planes. Although wolves were powerful with strong magic, foxes were smarter and had the talent to cross across Planes. Which was just as powerful for Peter. He would have given anything to leave the Astral Plane.

“Your idea of cute doesn’t exactly match mine.” The wolf remarked.

“Your idea of beautiful doesn’t match mine either.” The fox snapped. Peter frowned, wondering where it could come from. But he had an idea.

“Now, stalking others isn’t considered creepy? Or it’s only when I’m doing it?” the wolf wondered out loud, looking around the garden with the living tree and the dead house. He was trying to see the fox, he was trying to talk to it directly. He knew he couldn’t exactly kill him, because things couldn’t be killed on the Astral Plane, especially when they weren’t from there. And the fox wasn’t from that Plane, that was sure.

There was no answer for a long time, but Peter knew that the bastard was still around.

“What do you want, fox?” he asked. He was expecting a laugh or just a scoff and yet nothing of that kind was thrown at him. Instead his guest materialized not far from him, looking exactly as Peter remembered.

The fox’s features were resembling his Master’s, Stiles’, but there was something off with them. Probably the dark circles under his eyes, or his paler skin, but Peter felt there was something more to it. Looking at the fox made him ache. Which was strange, considering that his soul was bare on the Astral Plane and pain can only be felt by a material body. Apparently looking at the fox was hurting him so deep it scarred his broken soul.

“I have no will on my own.” Peter’s guest shook his head, his dead looking eyes glinted with something Peter could only describe as hatred. “I only have orders.”

The wolf snarled at the other. He had so many questions, so many things he wanted answers to. For example why the fox was calling Stiles Master? Why would he bother him on the Astral Plane; and what was he talking about when he’d said Peter would be judged before Stiles called for him for the second time. But Peter wasn’t sure asking the fox would get him anywhere. Especially when he had no powers to threaten him.

“Do you want to know what’s going on here, Peter?” the dark fox asked with a smirk. Peter once again felt a stab of pain at the mention of his name. No one ever called him by his name on the Astral Plane.

Peter didn’t answer. He didn’t want to give the satisfaction.

“Oh, but you do.” The fox spoke, moving closer, bearing Stiles’ distorted features. “And I know everything. I know it all and I can tell you that there is a cure for your sickness, Peter.”

The wolf hated how that small bait got his attention. He was trying to find how to break his curse ever since he was sure it was a curse. He’d looked into forbidden Spellbooks, killed mages for their knowledge, but found nothing. The only way he thought he could break it was to take on as much power as he could and rise to the level of a mage so he could break all the orders given to him.

And now, a damn fox; a broken, dark familiar is telling him he knows how to _break_ his curse.

“I know of foxes.” The wolf snorted, challenging. “They are sly and cunning and they lie through their teeth. Why should I believe anything you say?”

The fox was looking at Peter as if he wasn’t surprised, but fascinated.

“All this time as a slave and you haven’t changed in the slightest.” He said. For some reason hearing that made Peter feel unusually strong anger.

“Who are you?” Peter asked, growling.

“Oh, no no no, the question is who are _you_?” The fox started. “You’re an unfaithful scum who finds beauty in war and in nothing else.” He laughed, yet for Peter it sounded a bit too hysteric. And the strangest thing was that it was a familiar sounding laughter. “You had it all, you had everything you needed and you wanted more. And look how low you fell.”

Peter frowned at him, getting strangely angrier by each of the fox’s words.

“I’m not appreciating your creepy, mysterious comments.” Peter growled dryly. “Either stop with this nonsense or get out.”

“Do you know you’re banned from one Plane?” the fox started, grinning like a monster under the bed and Peter swore he saw that grin before.

“From Elysium, I’m aware.” Peter nodded. Yes, it was a Plane he was forbidden to walk on. Any mage who wished to summon him on that Plane would be burned up just like he would when his masters wanted to get rid of him. He read it in one of the books. But what the reason he was banned was, he never knew. Probably because of his evil nature, Peter figured. Or was it something else?

“Do you know the color of the skies of Elysium?” Peter heard the question and suddenly he could recall the color of the sky. It wasn’t blue. Not entirely...

The sky Peter remembered with Stiles... it was the sky of Elysium. He’d seen it in his dreams.

The fox grinned at him more and for the first time Peter got scared of him again. “Prepare yourself, little wolf, because I’m going to tell you a tale of war and blood and a curse.”

\--

It has been five years. Five, extremely long and suffocating years in cold, and doubt; growing. Stiles sometimes thought it will never end, that it will always go on. Something would always make him unable to get his license, unable to get out of his father’s strict gaze and warnings. Rarely, he even thought to leave Peter where he’d found him: on the Astral Plane. There he won’t have to deal with the familiar’s deadly nature and other things now connected to Peter. In the Astral Plane Peter couldn’t change, couldn’t betray him and Stiles could leave it to someone else to take on the familiar’s strength.

When Stiles had first summoned Peter he almost died and the wolf saved him. Then he’d just cast him back where he did belong.

When Stiles summoned Peter the second time he was curious and wanted to learn. They said goodbyes and swore to rule over the world when the familiar had to go.

Both of those times involved near death experiences and Stiles knew both of those things were thanks to him. Partly.

Ever since Peter left, Stiles had not seen any sign of the fox. No one wanted to kill him, no one put him in a box and buried him alive. No one called him Master…

For five years… Stiles graduated high school and applied to college. Balancing that and the magical studies took a lot of his energy and time, but his father didn’t let him quit college. During his time there Stiles was trying to find more people in the magical community, but as Deaton warned him, it was a really closed one. Spellusers had to be careful due to the hate crimes that often happened against them out of fear. No one wanted trouble and the solution for that was to keep a closed society.

Stiles begged Deaton to introduce him to someone so he can get into the circle of magic users, but the doctor refused. ‘When you have your license, they will find you.’ he said, implying that he may have already spread the word of Stiles, but the boy was never sure. Or something. Sometimes it was easier to get information on magical happenings that occurred hundreds of years ago than on the modern magical society. Stiles hated that even if people knew he was a magic user, he still felt alone and like he could turn to no one with this. In times like this he wished he could still talk to Peter, ask him about spells and magic and books, about anything or everything. About if he misses him at all…

Those five years filled with doubt and suffering seemed like a moment this morning. Stiles was holding his license in all its glory in his hands. It simply arrived by FedEx, how disappointing… the boy almost thought it will arrive by Owl post or something, but no, it was just a let down. He couldn’t wait until he could show it to Lydia and Deaton… Yet, the very first thing he planned to do with it was summon a wolf familiar for the third time in his life and finally start being the greatest Spelluser he’d always wanted to be.

But the reason he was hesitating was all those people who had told him not to call upon the familiar ever again. And even Stiles himself had second thoughts after he could finally take on some materials on familiars. He learned that Peter was indeed special. No one actually knew where he’d come  from or who’d cursed him. Or who’d summoned him the first time. The first records had already read that a wolf familiar was to be feared as it was killing and disobeying his masters. Peter was feared and he was infamous for it. Stiles also learned that the wolf was banned from certain Planes, for example from Elysium. There was no explanation why, it was simply a fact.

As he was learning more about Peter, Stiles realized that it was bigger than Peter, or him. But no one could help him and no one could explain. He had to find the connection on his own and it was difficult when he didn’t know where to start or where to even go.

Stiles’ final thesis was on Peter’s familiar life, he researched his timeline on the Prime Material Plane, he wrote about the spells that were created with his help, or spells that were created for him. He also tried to tap into the fact that humans can be made into familiars, that the soul can be crushed to be used by mages, but Deaton advised against it. Stiles realized that crushing the soul was another taboo in the world of magic. Yet another thing that was denied from him. But according to his research it was most probably what happened to Peter: someone cursed him, used a spell that was taboo on him and pushed him into slavery. The question that bugged Stiles was the reason. Why would anyone do that? Why would anyone be that cruel to someone else? Of course he could maybe understand, that if Peter was so charming even before his familiar life then he might have had some enemies. And it could have been explained easily.

But despite Deaton’s warning, Stiles still looked into the taboo of taking someone’s soul. Apparently, it wasn’t an easy thing as souls are eternal. And souls couldn’t be crushed or cut or hurt. Not by ordinary people.

A soul could only be hurt by its own soulmate.

Now, the topic of soulmates was still a contradictory topic amongst mages. As all of them agreed that souls are eternal, they also agreed that apparently some souls are connecting easier than others and that there may be something like a soulmate, but it wasn’t an accepted term. It was because it would imply that there are souls that exist to be with an other soul and that was ridiculous because it didn’t make sense. Of course all this debate went back to the fact that it was still unknown how souls are actually born, which Stiles wasn’t too interested in. Instead he looked at the other side, read about mages’ research who believed in soulmates and thankfully Deaton was one of them so he had a few good pointers.

Soon Stiles discovered why it was a fascinating topic. It wasn’t because of its romantic theme, but because if one could rise to power, two souls that belonged together could do so much more. It was the subject of many, many researches and Stiles should have known. That everything was about power.

With all this knowledge, Stiles wasn’t sure how soulmates came into the picture, or if he was even on the right path, but he knew it was something dark and something the magical history wanted to bury deep and never remember. He had a feeling that it was dangerous to pry at it. He knew from the way Deaton was looking at the books he borrowed, he knew from the way Argent went quiet at some of his questions. There were a few things Stiles had to figure out on his own.

He knew that summoning Peter again would be dangerous, maybe fatal and that was the only thing that made Stiles hesitate. Because on the one hand he wanted to see Peter again, he wanted to know him by his side, he wanted to be loyal to his promise and take on the world with him. Stiles could feel that with Peter he could become a powerful Spellmaster, but on the other hand he wondered if it was worth it. It kept him awake at night, thinking for long hours. Just like tonight.

Stiles bit his lower lip, reading the lines of the spell over and over again. Then he went for it.

The spell was something he knew by heart, the scar he made on his arm didn’t hurt at all and the energy that flew through his limbs to gather in the summoning was a rush. Stiles had practiced this spell when he was feeling lonely, when he felt a panic attack near him, when he couldn’t sleep… it was almost like a love song. But it was just a spell to summon.

The boy felt the air getting warmer around him as the spell started to work and the Plane prepared to give birth to the familiar, to Peter. Stiles called the wolf’s name, and this time he didn’t hope, but knew that he was doing the spell right. He watched the familiar form appear in front of him, bringing that strange, satisfying feeling with it. Stiles could never explain but ever since the first time he saw Peter, he felt right. Like Peter was always supposed to be there...

The wolf slowly materialized, looking exactly like the last time Stiles had seen him years ago. Still pretty dashing if anyone would have asked the boy, but thankfully no one did. No one knew about the dreams that should have been disturbing, but instead Stiles cherished them and reached back to them sometimes under his covers, or in the shower.

Peter as if he’d been frozen in time and melted out of some iceberg… which was somehow the case indeed. His smirk made Stiles shiver as he looked up at him.

And Stiles asked the first thing that came to mind.

“Did you miss me?” he heard his voice as if it was a stranger’s for some reason. Peter’s smile widened as he shook his head.

“How could I not?” the wolf said, moving in to seal their new pact with a kiss. And the boy let him.

“You change every time we meet.” Peter remarked quietly and his voice poured on Stiles like warm honey, despite it’s cold tone.

“And you don’t.” Stiles retorted, raising a pointed eyebrow.

“Oh, don’t bet on it.” the wolf cocked his chin up in a challenge and Stiles’ heart skipped a beat. Peter acted like he knew something. Indeed, both of them changed and Stiles wasn’t sure it was a good thing.

“I forbid you to hurt me, or anyone I hold precious.” Stiles ordered and Peter chuckled, looking down. “I also forbid you to look into the Spellbook.” he added quickly.

“Anything else you demand, Master?” Peter asked with a too nice smile.

“I want to know everything about you.” Stiles said and the wolf laughed out loud.

“Don’t you know enough?”

“Not nearly.”

“Oh no, Stiles.” the wolf started with a sigh, his smirk intact as he slowly started to pace around the room. “You don’t want to know about me. You want to know how to _use_ me.” He spoke softly and yet Stiles felt like his words were slaps through his face. He frowned at Peter. Of course, yes, he wanted to use Peter; for his power and his knowledge, but the wolf wasn’t threatening him with it before. Not like this.

“Alright, I get it… you changed too. How so?” Stiles asked squinting his eyes. Peter smirked and that moment the boy knew the wolf wasn’t going to tell him.

“The same thing that changed you, Stiles.” Peter spoke quietly, looking around the room. “Knowledge.”

“Knowledge of _what_?” the boy snapped, but only received a laughter from Peter. It felt like betrayal. When they parted Stiles thought that Peter was ready to work with him, to keep true to his promises and help Stiles become a powerful Spellmaster and now he was acting like he knew something Stiles didn’t, which was most probably true. But what could the wolf know that would turn him against Stiles like this? “Knowledge of what?!” the boy repeated in a louder voice than necessary, but Peter didn’t budge. He was just eying him with that awfully fond expression that disturbed Stiles more than anything.

“I wrote my thesis on you.” Stiles started, licking his lips. He wanted to figure this out and if that meant he had to tell everything he knew to Peter then he damn will.  “I tracked you back to the dark ages and found proof that you were summoned on this Plane many times even before that which I’m extremely baffled about. I know you’re not ordinary, that once you were a person with a whole soul.”

“Oh, look at you, repeating all the things I already told you before.” Peter chuckled and moved to sit down on the bed. Stiles followed him with his gaze, but didn’t move.

“I know you’re banned from Elysium.” The boy started and Peter smiled widely. “Do you know why?”

Peter looked up, straight into Stiles’ eyes as if he was contemplating something.

“As a matter of fact, I do. And I wonder if you’re just curious or if you know more than you’re letting me know, Master.” The wolf answered, his eyes narrowing, though his smirk stayed on his lips.

“Look into my head.” Stiles challenged before he could stop himself. “Look and see what I do know and tell me what I don’t!” he shouted, stomping his foot.

The familiar was looking at his master with an unimpressed gaze. What Stiles said wasn’t an order. It was just a challenge and it was up to Peter to take it. And the wolf did. He dipped into Stiles’ mind with such force that the boy stumbled a little. Peter wasn’t gentle, he roamed around taking everything he could and it _hurt_ , but Stiles didn’t tell him to stop. He wanted Peter to know everything.

Stiles was thinking about doing the same to Peter, but somehow he wasn’t sure that looking around Peter’s mind directly would be a good idea. It was loud and rowdy and heavy and every time the boy tried it, it was like looking at an abstract painting, he had no explanations, just feelings.

“Now... you really have no idea of anything, do you?” Peter asked, once he withdrew from Stiles’ head. The boy let out a relieved sigh, rubbing his temple to try and get rid of his headache.

“As I told you.” He hissed.

“Of course, but people lie, Master.” Peter chuckled and stood up to walk to Stiles. “And you’re a fool for not lying.”

“I want to know what happened to my mom, why the fox...” Stiles started, but then the familiar cupped his cheek and made him silent in that moment. Peter’s hands were huge and warm on his skin, making his heart skip a beat. Oh. Oh... Maybe Peter didn’t just look at what Stiles learned about him, but he knew what Stiles felt about him. “I know that the fox is what connects it all, and it’s connected to you too, somehow. And I don’t know how and I need to know, Peter, I need to know!” Stiles continued in a bit of a stutter, his eyes involuntarily dropping on the familiar’s lips.

“I think you’ll know everything in time.” Peter answered and Stiles wanted to punch him for it. Playing this stupid game.

“What’s your problem..?!” the boy started and wanted to push the wolf away, but Peter slid his hand on his nape and pulled him to his body. Their lips met in a bruising kiss and Stiles gasped into it. He struggled to push Peter away, but the familiar was stronger. Though Stiles didn’t feel his order working, because the wolf didn’t want to hurt him... But then what did he want?

“I’m going to show you something, Stiles, and you will have your answers.” Peter breathed, and tilted his head to kiss the boy deeper.

Stiles closed his eyes and grabbed at Peter’s shirt, not sure if he wanted to push him away or pull him closer. But as he felt the wolf push him down on the bed he realized he was clinging to him like his life depended on it. Peter’s kiss was impatient, almost angry, and yet Stiles welcomed it like aid to his wounds.

“Do you remember?” the wolf asked, whispering into his ear as his hand traveled low on Stiles’ body grabbing him through his underwear. Stiles wasn’t sure what was happening anymore. It didn’t feel like the usual sex-craze that sometimes got into him. He felt his powers rising and running wild in his body; he felt Peter’s magic against his skin too, in his mind, in his chest... “Oh, you may not remember, but your soul does.” Peter whispered.

“What...” Stiles whimpered, but the familiar kissed all the other sounds off his lips.

“Shhh, let me show you.” Peter hummed softly. The boy wasn’t sure what that was about, and he opened his mouth to ask, but then as he opened his eyes he saw something strange.

A moment ago they were in his bedroom, but right now they were somewhere else. They were in a room with bright, tall walls, laying in a huge bed with white, soft sheets and a canopy with pearly white drapes. The windows had golden frames matching the golden sky outside and Stiles just knew that he was looking at the skies of _Elysium_. He took in a sharp breath as he felt hands on his sensitive skin as if he’d just come and was ready for more loving. He looked up at the figure above him just to find it was Peter.

Peter, but Stiles somehow knew that he wasn’t a familiar. He was stronger. And he was a... warrior, maybe? Stiles frowned, because he couldn’t remember, but as the man leaned down and kissed his lips he felt like he didn’t even want to. Stiles moved his arms around Peter’s neck arching up into his warm body, demanding his attention and oh, Peter gave it to him. Stiles licked his lips as the man slowly kissed down his chin, following a path of kisses down his neck to his collarbone. Stiles slid his fingers into Peter’s hair, noting that it was longer than he remembered. He stroked it with his fingers, feeling like he’d found something old he had been searching for a long time.

All of it felt kind of nostalgic and content. Yet, Stiles couldn’t help feeling a hint of fear. He remembered this room, he remembered the sky and he remembered Peter like this... He had this dream over and over years ago when Peter was next to him. But not after he left. Stiles remembered looking out of that huge window and seeing a war going on around them. A war that was staining this world, even if the boy had no memories of it.

“Peter...” he called the name and the man answered. He leaned over him to kiss him and Stiles kissed back. He wanted to ask about the war, if Peter was aware of it, and if they didn’t have to flee, but then the man turned him on his stomach. Stiles moaned out loud as his cock rubbed against the bedsheets. He was hard and dripping, even more as he felt Peter’s wet fingers inside him. “Wait... wha...” he groaned, arching into the touch. Peter just draped over his back and kissed into his ear.

“You don’t want it, my love?” Peter asked and his words bloomed in Stiles’ chest, making him blush.

“I do.” He whispered, tilting his head to the side to look up into Peter’s face. Stiles had never been in love. He had crushes, but that was all. And yet, as he was looking at Peter he knew that he would do anything for this man.

Soon, Peter’s fingers were replaced with something thicker and hotter and Stiles moaned out loud at the sensation. His whole body was shivering from pleasure and all the other, useless thoughts left his mind. He grabbed the sheets as Peter started slowly thrust into him in a quiet groan. He peppered Stiles’ neck with kisses as his hips were working on a steady rhythm. Then he tilted his head, pressing his lips against Stiles’ ear, calling his name.

Only Peter didn’t call Stiles’ name, but he knew it was his name. Stiles whimpered, closing his eyes tightly, because everything was so confusing. He felt pain in his chest, and his breath became shorter.

“I love you...” Peter whispered and Stiles suddenly felt like crying. The man’s hand sneaked under him to take his cock then. “Tell me you love me too.” Peter ordered and Stiles spread his legs more, arching his back to let Peter deeper into him. Then Peter called his name again. “... tell me, tell me you love me!”

“I love you...!” Stiles whined and the worst thing was that he wasn’t lying. Peter chuckled and buried his face into his neck, stroking him tighter and faster. Stiles came not long after, his body feeling like it wasn’t the first that day, as if they were doing this for a while now. The boy panted and wanted to collapse on the bed, but Peter grabbed his hips to pound into him with more vehement. Stiles felt like he was being claimed and it started to hurt. He cried out in pain, but Peter continued. The worst thing was that Stiles somehow expected this to happen. He hated this, he didn’t know what was happening and he wanted to ask Peter to stop this, to stop playing around... and as he was thinking that the environment shifted back to his room. He was laying on his bed, on his stomach and Peter was collapsing on him that moment.

So it wasn’t entirely just a dream. Stiles felt the wolf inside him, felt the sheets wet under him and judging by their breathing Peter really did take him. Stiles’ body wanted him to sleep, but he didn’t want to. He had questions and he wanted to ask them.

‘ _What was that...?_ ’ he asked directly in Peter’s mind.

‘ _Our past._ ’ Peter answered softly, nuzzling at Stiles’ shoulder.

“Our past?” Stiles frowned and winced as Peter pulled out of him.

“The one we had together. The one which was my last.” The wolf explained and pulled Stiles to his body. The boy was still utterly confused. If it was a glimpse of Peter’s last life, it meant Stiles was there when he was banished as a familiar.

“You- you know who did this to you?” Stiles asked, frowning more, his mind racing. He was trying to think back to the room, the drapes, the golden window frames, the strange colored sky and the soldiers. He desperately tried to remember more, but he couldn’t.

“It was you.” He heard Peter’s voice and his heart skipped a beat. He pushed himself up so he could look into the wolf’s face.

“No.” Stiles said quickly.

“Yes.” Peter frowned up at him too.

“How could I have been the one!? How could I curse you?!” the boy started, sitting up, flailing his arms a little. Though his body was complaining against all the moving around.

“Now that’s actually something I wanted to ask you.” The wolf said, turning onto his side as he was watching the boy. “Why would you do something like this, hm?” he asked, his voice light, but Stiles could still feel something lying underneath. Something that was about to pounce at him at the first wrong answer.

“I didn’t do it.” Stiles hissed and Peter’s eyes flared blue. He was straining against his orders not to hurt him.

“You may not remember, but it was you who did it!” Peter growled, baring his fangs. Stiles backed away, scrambling out of the bed.

“How could I have done something like that when I was in fucking love with you?!” Stiles shouted desperately and that made Peter hesitate. “I could feel it Peter, back in that dream, or- memory or I don’t know, but I felt it! I was in love with you and I could never hurt you!”

Peter was staring at Stiles in the dark, his eyebrows slightly furrowed in confusion. Stiles knew he could tell that he wasn’t lying.

“But I know it was you.” he said quietly.

“How could you possibly know?” Stiles asked, nearing hysterics at this point. Because Peter was accusing him of something he couldn’t possibly remember and something he couldn’t see himself doing. How would he be able to hurt someone like this? Not just kill them, but to throw them into an eternal suffering, breaking their souls and most probably laughing in their faces.

“I’ve seen it.” Peter rolled his eyes, turning on his back. “The fox showed me.” He answered after a minute of silence.

Stiles froze. He opened his mouth to ask if Peter was serious, but as he was eying the wolf, he didn’t see a smirk or a laugh. No. The wolf spoke the truth. Yet his master was still confused.

“Foxes can travel Planes. That’s their special power.” Peter explained. “He visited me on the Astral Plane.” He continued, looking over at the boy. “He showed me my life before I became this disgrace, he showed me a life of prosperity and pleasure. And you, little mage, took it all away from me.”

“Well I’ve seen none of that!” Stiles stomped his feet. “What I saw was- you, the sky, the flowers and a war. There was a war...”

“So you do remember—“

“I don’t!” Stiles shouted. “I saw glimpses of that life. And how can you trust the fox in this?! He wanted to kill us! Maybe this is one of his tricks!”

“I’m not doubting that.” Peter nodded.

“Then how can you believe him!?”

“Because not even foxes can change memories, Stiles. Especially memories that not your body, but your _soul_ remembers.” The wolf answered, rolling his eyes.

“I want to see it too, then.” Stiles started, sitting next to Peter. The wolf frowned at him, wondering if he was serious. “I want to see what you’ve seen. I want to know how I cursed you. How can I do that?”

“There are multiple ways.” The familiar started, pushing himself up on his elbows. You can see what I saw, by looking into my head. He smirked, knowing well that Stiles hated that. “However, if you want to relive those memories on your own, we need to ask someone else.” The wolf said.

“No, no, I want to- I want to see what you saw first.” Stiles shook his head, closing his eyes, already thinking about the mess that was Peter’s head.

“I will guide you.” Peter said softer than Stiles expected and his chest suddenly felt a bit tighter.

“Can I trust you?” the boy asked. “Can I trust you to not show me something else, but show me what you’ve seen?”

“Oh, Master.” Peter chuckled. “These memories are terrible by themselves, why would I change a thing of them?”

Stiles bit his lower lip and closed his eyes again. He concentrated on the bond he felt with Peter, the connection a master and familiar had to form to work together.

‘ _What do you want to see, Master?_ ’ Peter asked, his voice echoing in his head.

‘ _Your cursing. I want to see that._ ’ Stiles answered and the next moment he felt like he was falling.  Though it was more like the scene was shifting around him once again. But this time he wasn’t included, it was Peter’s head and his memories.

The first thing Stiles noticed was the loud shouts around him and the scent of burning wood. Then he opened his eyes, Peter’s eyes, and saw the battle around him. The chaos was loud and fearsome, soldiers were fighting for their lives. There was blood everywhere and Stiles could spot a few spells falling around too. Somehow he knew that this was a battle he’d already lost and he felt Peter’s anger over it. He gripped his sword tighter and looked up at the huge gates of the castle and wanted to go on. He wanted to flee.

But then, as if he remembered something, he turned back, toward the great entrance hall of the castle, where the battle was breaking everything. In the middle of the chaos, there was someone that caught his eyes.

Stiles gasped along with Peter, because what he’d seen was himself. His features weren’t exactly like he was used to seeing in the mirror, but Stiles just knew he was looking at himself. He was pale, there were dark circles under his eyes; he looked exactly like the fox, but somehow Stiles knew it wasn’t the fox, but him. He was standing in the middle of the battle, untouched by the soldiers around him, his long robes covered in blood. His eyes were looking right into Peter’s and Stiles felt the man take a step back. He was afraid and Stiles wasn’t surprised. He too was startled by his own reflection. He saw pain and anger in his eyes and he wanted to ask what Peter had done, what he had done... But Peter didn’t speak, his body tensed and he gripped his sword tighter. Stiles could tell that he wanted to charge. But then, Stiles saw that his reflection was raising his arm and grabbed at Peter, as if he could reach him.

And actually, he did reach him. Stiles gasped as he felt a sharp tug in the middle of his chest. He was confused and scared by what was happening, because his body didn’t hurt, but something else did. Then he realized, the pain he felt was his soul being gripped and crushed by the most powerful spell he’d ever encountered. Stiles heard Peter scream, stumbling and falling to his knees.

‘Stop it..’ Stiles heard himself whimper. It wasn’t Peter, it was him. But he couldn’t stop, Peter kept him in his thoughts, he made him watch until the end. Until his soul left his body which hurt more than anything, because it wasn’t going away. Stiles had wings once that got torn off and it felt exactly like that. Only that he wasn’t sure if the soul could heal itself like a body can.

‘You will be broken forever for what you did to me, you will be a slave of others until the Astral Plane bears a life, Peter!’ Stiles heard his own voice screaming at him and he felt the heavy shackles around his arms and legs and neck and suddenly all went dark.

“Oh god...” Stiles whimpered when he came to his senses, pressed hard against Peter’s naked skin, his face buried into his shoulder. The familiar was holding him tight and warm while the boy’s heart was beating a scared rhythm. “It was me...” he sniffed, clinging to Peter for comfort. “It was me!”

“It’s alright, Master.” the wolf soothed him and Stiles shook his head and felt tears rolling down his cheeks. He was thinking back on his own reflection and he felt hatred and anger and so much pain that he almost choked as he was thinking back to it.

“That- that war...”

“I don’t know.” Peter said. “The fox didn’t show me more.”

“I want to know more, this can’t be it. I can’t believe I did something like this, I can’t-“ Stiles rambled. And what did he mean by ‘until the Astral Plane bears life’? Stiles was so confused and hurt and somehow angry.

“Stiles, look at me.” the wolf started, and cupped the boy’s cheek. “There are lives where our souls are born to be evil.”

“But I-“

“You’re not evil, of course not. But what is ‘evil’ anyway?” Peter asked, narrowing his eyes. “It’s all just relative, don’t you see? Everyone has goals and there are others that go against those goals.” He spoke and Stiles closed his eyes. He thought the fox and Peter were connected, but he discovered something entirely else. He wasn’t sure if he was fine with it.

“I want to... I want to help.” He started, sniffing and opening his eyes, looking at Peter. “I want to take it back...”

“You do?” the wolf asked, frowning. Stiles nodded without a word.

“I don’t know why I did it, but I want to take it back. I want to free you from- from this.” He said, motioning at Peter. The man chuckled and leaned over to brush his lips against Stiles’.

“Now, aren’t you a bit too heroic?” Peter asked against the boy’s lips.

“Is there a spell or something that can mend your soul? That can make it whole again.” Stiles asked, leaning his forehead against Peter’s.

“There may be one spell...” the wolf started quietly. “In the book…” Stiles frowned, he wanted to help Peter with all his heart, but he wasn’t sure if his Spellbook had any of these kind of spells. “I’m going to be free if you let me.” Peter spoke softly then, pulling Stiles to him. The boy went without any hesitation, though his heart skipped a beat. Peter laid down on the bed and pulled Stiles on his chest, nuzzling into his hair. It was strange. Stiles somehow felt it was familiar and it was right, yet slightly strange too. Because he himself was never in love with Peter, was he? It wasn’t him, it was... someone else. He suddenly wished he would know more about who they were before this. About their relationship, about the war that was going on... Stiles wanted to know everything.

“Is there any way I could... I could see my memories of that life too?” he thought out loud and Peter’s hand stopped stroking his back.

“Why would you want to see it?” the wolf asked.

“For the same reason you could see yours. To remember.” Stiles frowned.

“Now, Master, past lives are forgotten, because we are not supposed to carry them with us.” The wolf answered quietly.

“Then how come you got to remember yours?” the boy huffed.

“Because it was what made me what I am now. I’m still living that life in some ways.” The wolf frowned.

“In that case I should still remember mine, because I’m the reason you’re a familiar now. It’s no fair I’m living my life without knowing what exactly happened.” Stiles answered.

“You know what happened.” Peter said too quickly.

“No, I don’t. I saw what you think happened. But I want to ask my past self, why I thought that giving you this curse was the only option when I... when I loved you.”

As Stiles said that they both fell silent. Apparently, it was a sensitive topic for Peter too. Stiles wondered how they were back then, how did they fall in love and why did his chest feel so painful when he was thinking about it.

“I love you too.” Peter’s voice came and Stiles froze. Then he wanted to push himself away, but the wolf grabbed his arm, pulling him back. “What’s wrong?”

“You love that other me, that other me who cursed you.” Stiles spoke. “And you know what, I think this is why we shouldn’t remember who we were before... So something like this wouldn’t happen.” he said, laughing a little sadly, but attempted to push himself away again.

“That one remembers and the other doesn’t?” Peter asked, still not letting go of the boy.

“Partly, and that they aren’t making the same mistakes again.” the boy sniffed, tugging at his arm and trying to get away from the wolf. “Something ended really, really badly the last time we were together. And now you act like you want to continue where we left off!”

“You talk like you didn’t dream of me when I was away.” Peter challenged and Stiles groaned.

“No- I- that’s different! I’m- I- I had no idea we were involved before, I was just- I don’t know...! I don’t know if what I feel is me or that other me!”

“Stiles, calm down.” the wolf sighed. “Don’t think about it right now, just enjoy it. Let me hold you. We are already too long into this...” he muttered and pulled the boy back to him finally. “If you want me to take you once again just tell me.” he whispered and Stiles swallowed. “Oh, Master, you’re still such a teenager.” Peter chuckled.

“Shut up...” Stiles muttered and tilted his head to kiss Peter’s lips a bit hesitant. But the wolf cupped his cheek and made the kiss his, he deepened it, making Stiles groan into it.

So Peter was back and Stiles wondered if it was a good idea. He wanted power and to become a powerful Spellmaster, but with a familiar that he himself had cursed he wasn’t sure anymore.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Betaed by Evy~!

 

Stiles took a deep breath and walked down the stairs, Peter following closely despite the boy telling him he’d rather do this alone. He had to tell his dad that he summoned Peter and that he did it by his own will and he would not send him back. He will have to tell all that. To his dad. Who had told him not to summon Peter every single day for the last five years. It will be difficult, Stiles knew, but a necessity. Fuck this all, he thought and wondered if it was worth it at all. Why the talk...

But here he went.

“Dad…” Stiles started, swallowing to wet his dry throat and walked to his dad who was sitting by his kitchen table, reading some files. “Dad, uh, can I talk to you…” he asked, and saw his father look up. But judging by his expression, Mr. Stilinski knew already what his son wanted to say.

“Stiles…” the sheriff started, but Peter was faster.

“Sheriff.” he smirked. Stiles didn’t have to look at him to know he was smirking. His tone was too obvious of that fact. Peter hadn’t changed in that aspect, he loved to make people feel uncomfortable. Which was actually a skill Stiles loved, but not when his father was the subject of it.

“Dad, I… had to.” the boy tried, knowing it won’t help with his father. His expression, that heartbreak he saw in those eyes made his stomach get tied up in a knot and sink. No, this is not what Stiles wanted. He wanted… well, a lot of things; things he couldn’t tell his father. Things of… Peter. Things of power. “You have to—”

“I have to understand, right?” Mr. Stilinski started with a sigh, rubbing his eyes. “Stiles I…” but then he watched Peter take a seat by the kitchen table, with an expression saying that he owned the place. The sheriff was just watching him with an unimpressed gaze. Then he turned it to Stiles who had to try his best not to wince. “I am not saying I understand, son.” he said at last. “But… if this is what you want, then I can’t stop you. I just hope you know what you’re doing. And that…” he started but he didn’t finish it. He didn’t want to, but Stiles knew what he wanted to say. That he didn’t end up like his mother.

For Mr. Stilinski Peter was the one bringing the murderous fox into the household again. The fox that killed his wife. The fox that almost killed his son and most probably because of Peter. And now the wolf was here again and the sheriff was most probably afraid the fox will show up again. Stiles couldn’t say he wasn’t afraid of that, but this time he thought himself prepared.

“It’ll be alright, dad.” Stiles said, his hands in fists and his lips tight. “It won’t be bad. I promise, dad. It’ll be alright.” he said in a low, deep voice that even scared him. Was he lying? He had no idea. But he said the words, and since he was a spelluser he knew words were important. Words held the magic of all Planes and worlds.

The look of Peter didn’t make it better. The motherfucker knew that he hadwon, like a cat that was well fed knowing the dog will take the blame for the fallen pottery. As if everything was working out.

“I’ll be in my room.” the sheriff sighed, gathering the papers from the table and taking his glasses.

“Do you want coffee?” Stiles asked as a kind of attempt to make things right, but as long as Peter was on this Plane, he knew he couldn’t really make it right with his father.

“Don’t bother, I’ll go to sleep after I wrote my report.” the man said, sighing. He didn’t even look at Stiles as he walked past him and that hurt. It hurt more than a word, or a hit. Stiles bit his lower lip, turning his gaze at Peter.

“ _Second thoughts_?” the familiar asked, right in his head.

“Never.” the boy hissed, shaking himself of guilt and shame. He had to keep his goal in front of him. He was doing this for his father too. If he will become a powerful spelluser, then he will be able to protect everyone he loves. He can be an emissary to Scott, to the local werewolves. He won’t have to be afraid of anything and anyone. He could help the police, he could be the person he always wanted to be. Ever since his mother died.

Though, Stiles had to admit, it was funny that his current help had a connection to his mother’s killer. It was like laughing was the only thing he could do at this point.

“So, well done. You have told your father.” Peter snickered as Stiles sat down by the table too. “Now, Master, do you have a plan?” he asked, the chair creaking as he was leaning back on it. Stiles pursed his lips, his eyes staring at the tablecloth. The stains their coffee made, the morsels from their breakfast lying there, making it used and dirty but still cozy. As if nothing had happened, nothing out of the ordinary.

“I told you, I will help you lift this curse.” Stiles said, absently wiping the table with his hand. “I guess I’ll just have to… cast the spell.” he spread his hands, looking at Peter for approval. The familiar didn’t even move. “Right?” Stiles tried.

“Yes.” Peter said then, nodding. His master narrowed his eyes. Something was different in Peter. Could be the five years spent away from him, could be the now too much knowledge Stiles had of him, or could be something else… Peter wasn’t frozen in ice all that time either.

“What kind of spell is it?” Stiles asked quietly. Peter tilted his head, looking at his master with a smirk.

“The fox told me that there is a spell which can make me whole again.” he said. Stiles took a deep breath. He didn’t expect that. The fox was trying to kill both of them before and now it told Peter about a _spell_ that could _save_ him?

“Which spell exactly?” the boy barked, his voice breaking.

“He didn’t tell that much.” Peter shrugged. “But if I could look into the Spellbook maybe I would know.” he added. Stiles closed his eyes for a moment. They were back five years ago, as if nothing had happened… the same argument, the same dilemmas.

“There is no such spell in the book, Peter, I know that book by heart.” he said at last, quietly.

“Do you even know what all of those spells are for?” Peter asked, raising an eyebrow. Stiles felt anger heating his cheeks. He was studying magic for five years, he was stronger than before and the wolf could still question him like that?!

“Of course I do.” he said in a low voice. “I have learned to be a Spelluser ever since I sent you back to the Astral Plane, don’t think that—“

“That I can teach you more? That I can tell you that you have no damn idea what most of those spells are for?” Peter asked, cocking up his chin, accepting the challenge. “You summoned me here for a reason, Stiles. And it’s not to help me become whole, oh no. We had a deal, Stiles.” he reminded the boy. “We were supposed to be strong together.”

“And we will, Peter. But don’t handle me like I was still a kid or some tool for your crusade for freedom.” Stiles hissed. Peter frowned at him for a moment, then chuckled.

“Oh, Master. What has gotten into you?” he asked and Stiles felt the familiar slowly sneak around in his mind. “Are you afraid?” Peter asked in a whisper. And yes, Stiles was afraid… of many things.

“Of course I’m afraid, Peter.” Stiles started. “That fox tried to kill us and now, suddenly he’s all buddy buddy with you?”

“He wasn’t exactly friendly.” Peter commented.

“But he helped you. He showed you how you became like this, he showed us that it was _me_.” Stiles spoke, his hands flying around as he was getting more worked up. “He has a plan, a great, more elaborate plan and I’m fucking scared out of my mind. It killed my mother for power, it wanted to kill me for some reason. It calls me Master…”

“Now, _Master_.”  Peter interrupted. “I can see you’ve grown, but I hadn’t expected you to lose your courage.”

“I didn’t lose anything, I’m just aware that—“

“You’re not afraid of the fox, but of what we can achieve.” Peter accused and Stiles threw his hands up in defeat.

“I’m just trying to look at it—somehow, I’m just trying to understand!” he said.

“Meanwhile we are using up precious time.” the wolf sighed.

Stiles licked his lips and turned his head, looking out the window. He knew they were wasting time. But he also knew that at one point he will have to ask Deaton for help. Again.

“Let’s just… rest for today, and tomorrow… I’ll check the book.” Stiles said at last. “And then… we’ll see.”

Stiles had thought a lot about summoning Peter. Alsoabout how it will be when he’ll have all the power and knowledge. But getting there? He didn’t really think about it. Also, there was the question if Peter would stay with him after the spell was done… He probably wouldn’t. Because then he wouldn’t be a familiar anymore. But then how can he help him with gaining power?

Stiles realized that the reason he was suddenly mad at Peter had more to do with the wolf being a dick. The boy realized that he wanted that power, that knowledge Peter can give him, and for that he had to stay by his side, as his familiar. If Peter’s curse was lifted, then he will leave… and Stiles may not have the power he wanted. He will not know those secrets Peter can tell him, he will not have someone by his side who can support him in this world which neglected spellusers… Stiles realized he was being selfish, just like Peter. And Peter will soon realize that he was stalling…

\--

Being back on the Primal Material Plane was like taking a breath after being underwater for too long. Peter loved it. The smells, the noises, the life that was pulsating here was something he could never get used to. And now, this time it may be the last time he has to walk on this Plane as a familiar. With the spell and with the help of Stiles he won’t have to suffer because of his curse any longer.

Though, Peter could tell Stiles wasn’t that sure about this new turn of events. Of course. When they parted, they promised each other that they will take over the world, and they will rule it. Peter could understand, he knew this feeling very well. The thirst for more, and the fear when it was too close, but something just wasn’t adding up.

Peter knew that Stiles will have to come to terms with this sooner or later.

If not, he will end up like his unlucky masters before… No matter how special Stiles was.

\--

“I told you, there’s no such spell in this book.” Stiles sighed as he was flipping through the pages of the Spellbook his mother had given him. By now he knew the book’s every spell by heart. He knew the words, he sometimes tried them to feel the flow of magic through his body, tingling his fingers. It was almost like some kind of addiction. Feeling what he could do with the right words, with the right amount of magic, and he could control it. Stiles felt the most himself when he was casting a spell, especially since he started to learn it properly. He learned a lot, but he knew there was more to this world about magic that he himself has to find and take.

“It must be here.” Peter muttered, reaching for the old book, flipping through the pages. He wasn’t gentle, nor careful. And when one of the pages complained under his rough fingers, Stiles had enough.

“Alright, give it back!” he gave the order and took the Spellbook. Peter looked at him as if he just insulted his every being. “If you tear it apart it won’t give up its secrets.” Stiles murmured, closing the book and stroking it fondly. Peter watched his fingers, remembering how they felt against his skin. How warm they could get and how skillful they handle spells and other things.

“Peter, what if the fox lied to you about the spell?” Stiles asked, his fingers picking at the corner of the book where the covers were loose and used.

Peter licked his lips, his eyes not moving from Stiles’ fingers, but his thoughts were rushing. Of course he’d thoughtabout this scenario, that the fox was just lying to him to use him, to make them confused, especially Stiles.

“Of course, I’m not an idiot.” Peter snorted at last, turning his gaze at Stiles’ worried face. “The fox must have shared all that with me to successfully mess with our heads. With what we have.”

“What do you mean?” Stiles asked, narrowing his eyes, but the moment the words left his lips, he knew what Peter was referring to.

“I told you I will come back and we’ll take over the world, Stiles.” Peter said, in a low tone.

“But how can we do that if you’re not here?” Stiles asked. The familiar didn’t answer, just watched him. Peter had no answers for him either.

“You don’t trust me.” the wolf summed and this time it was Stiles who said nothing. He bit in his lips, his brown eyes seeking Peter’s blue gaze. For some answers. For something, anything that how should they sort this out.

“What did the fox tell you about the spell?” Stiles didn’t like how his voice sounded. It was raspy and weak and almost like he was giving up.

“He told me that it will make me whole again.” Peter started, sighed and leaned back in his seat. “He told me… the spell is near too.” he added, his eyes lighting up blue. Stiles frowned. “Spells are either in books or written somewhere. It’s not a spell until it’s written down.” Peter said. “Well, not officially.” he added with a shrug.

“So… this spell must be written somewhere.” Stiles sighed, looking at the book again. “But what’s near, what could that mean? It could be anything. What’s near anyway?” he asked, hissing.

“Now, Stiles you’re a mage not a philosopher, don’t ask stupid questions.” Peter sighed, looking at the book.

“I’m just trying to come up with something!” Stiles jumped up, throwing the book on the bed. “Even if I don’t have to, Peter. This spell is not for me, it’s for you. The moment it’s casted you’re out of here, you’ll go on a killing spree or what knows, but one thing is sure, you’re not going to stay here with me.” he shouted at Peter who was looking at him like he wasn’t impressed.

“Now, Stiles it sounds like you’ve given up helping me in this.” Peter said, tilting his head to the side. His voice was cold, too cold for Stiles’ taste. It tugged something in his chest, something he didn’t like.

“No shit, Sherlock.” Stiles hissed.

Without a notice Peter jumped from his seat and attempted to go against Stiles. The boy knew this, because he could feel Peter strain against his chains to touch him, probably not in a nice way. Stiles stood from the bed too, cocking his chin up at the wolf.

“I am not going to help you find that damn spell, Peter. It’s not what we agreed on.” he said, his voice trembling.

Peter’s eyes were electric blue, his fangs visible, his anger was vibrating  of him. It overwhelmed Stiles, made his body tremble, but he wasn’t budging. They had to state it now or never, or it would get worse.

“Is that so, Master?” the wolf asked, his voice a hiss of a snake in the dark. “So you decided to be just like the others.” he laughed bitterly. “To just use me, keep me in a cage and kill me when you don’t need me anymore.”

It wasn’t a question. Stiles swallowed, as he was looking into Peter’s gaze which was like a storm at sea; angry and dark and dangerous.

“Very well, then. I will search for the spell on my own.” Peter smirked and turned away. Stiles didn’t try to stop him, even if he really wanted to. He wanted to ask him if he was serious, but when your soul was connected to another’s you kinda knew when someone was.

It got cold when Peter disappeared from the room. But it was alright, Stiles thought, he managed without Peter before and he will manage from now on too. It was fine, it was alright. He will buy all the hoodies and try to get warm again… He was doing this for five years after all, the rest of his life wouldn’t matter...

\--

He was sitting by the table, looking down at the book. He felt tired, scared and still somehow content. He was thinking about something… someone.

Stiles realized he was dreaming again. Of his previous life, probably. He remembered the color of that sky from Peter’s vision. It was the same, he was in Elysium.

Usually these dreams were short and had unfamiliar settings, but this time something was off. The book Stiles took from the table was the same Spellbook he had. It looked the same, except that time hadn’t attacked it yet. It was still new, with a few spells still missing from it. Stiles had no idea how he knew that, simply he just _knew_.

As dream-him was looking down at the book, he realized something. The spell Peter was looking for… it was indeed in the book. In fact, it was one of the first spells that had beenwritten in the book.

The thought came to Stiles so suddenly it jerked him awake. He gasped, flailing as he woke up, looking around in the darkness.

“The spell—the spell…” he wheezed, feeling around for the book next to him. Blindly he grabbed it and pulled it to him. The spell wasn’t on the pages inside…

Stiles grabbed the cover of the book and tore off the skin that was covering it.

There it was, the words of the spell… Though, it was the spell that broke Peter’s soul and pushed him into slavery. Stiles couldn’t read it, it made his head hurt. But he just knew that these words were just that. With the same frantic movement he turned the book around and tore off the skin from the back cover too. The spell written there was the other one. The one that could put Peter’s soul together. Stiles frowned as he was trying to read the words, but failed. It was of a different language. Stiles knew that he could read them, but he wasn’t familiar with the language for some reason.

“It’s the language of Baator.” came a voice and Stiles felt the icy grip of shock in his limbs.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Peter, you scared the shit out of me!” he gasped, gripping the shirt on his chest. He could see the familiar sitting by the end of his bed.

“Show me.” Peter made a grab at the book, but Stiles pulled it out of his grasp. They had the spell and Peter was in reach of it. Stiles wasn’t sure he wanted the familiar to have it still, that’s why they had the fight. That’s why Peter left. “Stiles.” Peter warned, his eyes flaring up blue.

Stiles swallowed, looking into those eyes. The dream in his mind was still fresh, the feeling he got from it still lingering in his head, in his chest… He turned his gaze at the words too, licking his dry lips. That was the spell, hidden on the book. The very first set of spells… The boy read the words again and again, yet he couldn’t cast the spell, not yet.

“Stiles.” Peter called him again and he closed his eyes. In the dream, he was thinking about Peter. He was thinking about him with love, with such love Stiles had never felt and he wasn’t sure if he ever will. Him in that dream… in that life before would do anything for Peter… And what he did for him was this. Breaking his soul and making a slave out of him.

“Here.” Stiles sighed, pushing the book toward Peter. “Here’s your spell.”

Peter, too excited apparently, just took the book and read the lines. Stiles watched him in the dim light, feeling a kind of sadness. That thick, strange emotion that contaminated his dreams, his memories, especially the ones with Peter, no matter which life he remembered him from.

“Why did you come back?” he asked, still eying the familiar.

Peter cast a short glance at him.

“I told you the spell was near.” he said, yet Stiles knew he was lying. He came back because they couldn’t exist without being near each other. They had to learn that years before. “And here it is.” Peter held up the book.

Stiles’ gaze fell on the written lines, in black ink. It seemed like someone with a bad handwriting hastily noting them down to not forget. In some other way it seemed like a child’s writing. Stiles wondered if he was the one it on the book, or he had someone else to do it.

“Baator, is one of the Planes.” Stiles muttered absently, watching the black ink. “Which one is it again…” he frowned, trying to think of his research, but his mind was still slow from the dream.

“Some say it’s the one that is the closest to the place you call Hell.” Peter snorted, brushing the tip of his fingers against the writing. His fingers were shivering gently and Stiles felt almost sorry for him. The key to his freedom was just in reach. “It’s the most cruel, and sinister of all Planes. Its demons are organized, just as its mages. And that… is the thing that makes them profoundly dangerous.” Peter muttered.

“Then how come they have a spell for breaking the soul and one for lifting this curse?” Stiles asked, frowning.

Peter pulled his mouth to a cynical smile, chuckling a little.

“Oh Stiles…” he sighed. “It’s cruel to break someone like that, true. But it’s also cruel to give it back to them… just to take it away.” he muttered. The boy frowned, feeling utter disgust in Peter’s words.

“They would… they would undo the spell… just to give false hope and then…?” he asked, frowning. Peter didn’t have to answer, his smile said it all. Stiles swallowed the bitterness around his throat. Sometimes he had to realize just how evil this world was. Especially if it involved the soul.

“Why can’t I read that?” he asked, his voice still cracked from what he had learned about Baator.

“You know, Stiles, magic doesn’t come from the Prime Material Plane.” Peter started.

“Oh god here we go! Can’t you just tell me why I can’t read it?” Stiles groaned, leaning back on the bed. Peter huffed a bit annoyed.

“Simply? It’s because you don’t speak Baator.” he said. “Humans who can read the books can read them because their magic originates from one of the Planes. Your origin of magic is Elysium. That’s why you can read this book, but you can’t read the spell on the cover. It’s written in a different language your magic can’t read, Stiles.”

Stiles frowned up at the ceiling. That was strange. Why would a spell in a different language be written in… on the book if it was from Elysium?

“It doesn’t mean I can’t cast it, right?” he asked, frowning.

“There are a few ways that can help you in that. In your current state you can’t even read it, right?” Peter nodded, absently flipping through the pages of the book. “One way is to go to Baator and cast the spell there…” he muttered.

“Would that work?” Stiles frowned more. After what Peter told about the plane he wasn’t sure he wanted to experience it firsthand. To go to hell…

“It would be too dangerous.” Peter sighed. “But.” he looked up at Stiles, which also made the boy sit up.

“But what?” he frowned.

“But we can bring Baator here.” the familiar raised an eyebrow.

“Like a portal or something, or you’re gonna like… sinisterly organize some demons, or…?” Stiles asked and saw Peter roll his eyes.

“Well now, we must consider that as an alternative, but I was thinking something far simpler.” Peter said. “They say, if you surround yourself with things originating from a certain Plane, you can make your magic pick up the vibes of that Plane and then you’ll be able to read their spells.” he muttered.

“Who says that?” Stiles frowned. He didn’t read anything like that before, in none of the books he could get to. Though, he had to admit his sources were pretty limited. But that’s when Peter came into the picture.

“Many of the mages I served learned spells like this. By collecting pieces of other Planes and learning their spells, translating them to their own language.” Peter said quietly, but his voice resonated in such a way that made Stiles shiver.

“So I could translate the spell of Baator to my language?” he asked.

“It could be possible… but extremely difficult. They are very, how should I put it, opposite Planes.” Peter snickered. “You may have to cast in Baator’s language to spare time.” he added.

Stiles pursed his lips.

“I get it, so we just find some stuff from Baator. On this Plane. Easy-peasy.” he sighed. “I’ll start with that the first thing in the morning.” he nodded to himself, then he raised his eyes at Peter who was still sitting at the end of the bed with the Spellbook in his hands. “Are you happy now?” he asked.

Peter just cast Stiles an unimpressed gaze.

“Happy is not exactly the word I would use.” he snorted.

Though Peter never explained. Instead he stayed unusually silent all night, just staring at the spell. It really crept Stiles out so much he could barely sleep. He couldn’t even imagine what Peter could have felt. After all those hundreds, thousands of years he finally found the spell that can put him back together. It was so close, yet so far. And that was making it worse, that it was so close, just on the other side of the glass...

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Proofred by Evy~

Stiles figured that it will be a rough few weeks when he started looking for people who knew anything about Baator. Stiles knew it was a sensitive matter so he was trying everything in his power not to ask Deaton, because the guy was sly and could cause more trouble than help them… But as things were looking, Stiles felt that they will definitely need to ask the vet at some point.

“Exactly how many stuff do we need?” he asked Peter as he was scrolling through a forum of supposed Spellusers.... But it seemed more like some role playing community. Aaaand, yes, yes it was. The boy gave a groan and closed the page.

“It depends on what kind of pieces we can locate and find.” Peter oh so usefully added. “It depends how your magic will react. I suppose we need at least three, but that could be forty… taken how Baator and Elysium are opposites.

“You are no help, Peter.” Stiles sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “If you wouldn’t be so goddamn gorgeous I’d—“

Peter just chuckled, sending a wink toward Stiles’ way who pretended not to see it. Though it was useless, since Peter was aware of the faintest flutter in his heart too. But Stiles wouldn’t give the satisfaction to him to show it…

“Well, I guess we’ll have to start somewhere.” Stiles muttered, reading another page, but it was yet another role playing bait. He hated not knowing anyone with magic. Deaton had told him that he will be contacted as soon as he has his license, no? Or wasn’t that what he said? Either way, Stiles needed other spellusers more than ever before. And so he knew that the time to contact Deaton had come.

“You will ask the vet, won’t you?” Peter asked, even if he most probably knew what Stiles was getting at as he took his phone.

“Do you know anyone who can help us?” Stiles asked as he tapped the screen. The familiar pursed his lips. He had no idea. Humans tended to live a short life, especially the ones he knew. They are most probably dead or suffering from dementia as most “immortals” out there. There was a reason that magic users were careful about eternal life. Yes, it gave you the power to live forever, but not the strength. Peter had multiple masters experimenting with a spell like that, combined with enchanted objects and herbs, but something was always amiss, something was always failing. The best someone  managed was to live for three hundred years and still have Peter’s chains on him, even if the mage couldn’t even move his mouth to bark orders at him anymore. It was a mercy kill if anyone asked Peter.

\--

When they went to meet Deaton in his office, he didn’t seem surprised, quite the contrary, he almost looked smug. Stiles wasn’t sure what he hated more: this or his father disappointed eyes on him these days.

“Everyone told you to keep away, to use your magic for good and you still do this.” Deaton chuckled, motioning at Peter. The familiar sent a mocking smile his way. “What will Scott say?” the man asked and Stiles hated him for it. Bringing Scott into any of this was a low move, not even his father would dare to mention it.

“He’ll live when I become the greatest emissary of the country.” Stiles shrugged, trying to sound calm. Scott was away, far from Beacon Hills to tackle his own werewolf business. Stiles missed him, but he had some things to do on his own too.

“Right.” Deaton closed the argument. “I suppose you’re here to ask me for something, otherwise I don’t think you would’ve showed yourself.”

Stiles hated the knot that suddenly formed in his stomach and refused to look at Peter. He had to be smart about this. He licked his lips and thought of his words carefully.

“I… need information.” he started, but winced. It wasn’t exactly what he needed, but it was a start. Deaton just raised an eyebrow. “I want into the magical community, Deaton, it’s my only way to…” he stopped for a moment before continuing. “To learn more.”

“I thought Peter here was for filling in the holes.” the vet said and Stiles tried so hard not to show how he was dying inside at that use of words.

“Well now--” the familiar smirked and Stiles elbowed him in the ribs. The vet frowned at them for a second. But then his expression turned serious.

“Stiles, I’d ask you to send Peter out during this.” he started with a sigh.

“Why would I, he could read my mind anyway.” the boy started.

“Only if you let him, you’re his master Stiles and now you can’t say that you have no powers or knowledge over him.” the man pointed out. Peter gave a disapproving sound. He was close to freedom and even before barely anyone could order him around. Stiles didn’t miss the feeling, and yet he still turned toward the wolf.

“Leave us now, Peter.” he said.

“You’re the master, but you let him order you around.” the wolf remarked quietly.

“Peter, please.” the boy said, clearing his throat. Peter just pursed his lips and walked out.

Deaton followed the familiar with his gaze until he left the room. Then turned back to Stiles. The boy avoided his eyes, he didn’t want a lecture, he wanted information.

“What are you two up to these days?” the man asked, leaning his hips against his desk, crossing his arms.

“I just want answers.” Stiles answered. “I just… I want to know more about Baator.” he blurted out. Fuck being careful. Deaton frowned, eying Stiles as if waiting for the punchline. But it never came.

“You’re serious?” the man asked. Stiles nodded, pocketing his hands. He was nervous. This was his last way of getting information. The next one was to walk up to every person on the street and ask them the same question. “Why would you want to know of Baator of all the Planes?”

“Curious.” Stiles shrugged.

“And dangerous.”

“So you won’t help me.” the boy summed up, with a sigh. It was a challenge.

“I won’t.” Deaton nodded. “But I may know someone who will. With one condition.” he started, his eyes flickering to the closed door for a second. “You will keep Peter by your side. All the time. Always.”

Stiles raked his teeth over his lower lip at that. He knew that before Deaton told him. Peter had his goal in sight, he was close to freedom and he was dangerous before too. Five years ago he trusted the wolf even if he knew basically nothing of him. Right now, he knew most of his history, even both of their history… and yet he never felt more distant from the wolf. And maybe that’s how it should be.

“I’m serious Stiles. For your own good, especially if this… thing involved Baator. Just keep the wolf near.” Deaton warned. Stiles nodded, realizing he was speechless suddenly. “Order him to keep close and see in his head. You’re his master and he’s a familiar. Don’t be like his masters before, don’t underestimate him.”

“I won’t.” Stiles heard himself say, but in reality he already felt he gave Peter too much already. The wolf knew of the spell, he knew where it was and how to cast it. He only needed Stiles to cast it… “I won’t.” the boy repeated.

Deaton just looked at him in silence as if he would seal the pact. Then nodded.

“I wish this wasn’t how you’re introduced to the magical community. Baator has a kind of stigma to it.” he remarked, moving to sit in his chair. Stiles took this as a cue to leave. He didn’t want to do or say anything that would make Deaton change his mind, he could feel he was dancing on thin ice already.

\--

The drive back was filled with tense silence and Stiles knew that Peter deliberately used this method to show off his disapproval. He tried his best to hide his mind from Peter and said nothing to him either. He had to collect himself. The boy already knew that this time there was more at stake than prison…

“I want you to always be by my side.” Stiles gave the order as they turned to the driveway of the house. Peter nodded with a low chuckle from next to him. “I’m serious Peter.” the boy insisted and the familiar’s smile dropped. Stiles was serious.

“The other day you told me you’re not afraid anymore.” he muttered.

“The other day I had no idea Baator was involved in this. The way Deaton was warning me--”

“He had no idea what he was talking about.” Peter said. Stiles gave an angry sigh, turning to Peter.

“This is not about him, this is about you, okay? You stay with me, you… Keep around. I’m not taking chances here and I don’t owe you an explanation.” he stated.

The way Peter looked at him broke Stiles’ heart in more than one way. But at the moment his fear was bigger than his trust or love. Peter was back. Baator was involved. And Stiles was sure the fox was also lurking in the shadows again. They both had to be prepared.

Stiles took Deaton’s offer seriously and thankfully the vet also kept his side of the bargain. A few days later Stiles received a call from a woman named Sonja, who welcomed him into the magical society and asked exactly what he needed of Baator…

\--

He knew when the wolf arrived back on the Prime Material Plane. He could feel the ripples of it hit his existence through the Planes. The fox also woke up from his sleepless dream and went where he had to. Near to his Master the Wolf. They were on their way. The Planes, the Fates, the Lives were ever so slowly aligning and it would mean the End. The End of it all, the true End of the War in the chronicles. Finally, the last pieces of the sad ballads, of the war epics and all those stories will be written and forgotten just like the rest of the parts. And then sweet death would finally come.

He will not make any mistakes again. He will not need more power to see this through, because it will finally end.

The fox watched Stiles and Peter walk into the house. A darker part of him told him again to kill his Master, to end it. But that won’t work, it would just postpone things. It wouldn’t get rid of the soul. The soul which was the cause of all this… A soul. Two souls. Two halves of one soul. Which is now three.

The fox shook his head. He was getting weaker again, but the tale was slowly ending. For real this time, for real this time.

It was ending. It was ending. It was ending.

\--

Sonja didn’t enclose her full name or anything else. She said that Deaton was the one introducing Stiles to her and got his number from the vet. But that was all. She chatted Stiles up in a casual manner and Stiles only realized that he agreed to meet a complete stranger when he put his phone down. He always envied these kinds of people, who could just chat you up and get all the vital information they wanted without you even being aware that you’re being used. Only after.

But Stiles was just glad that their case was at least going somewhere. He was also terribly curious of other mages. On top of all this, Sonja wasn’t that far from them, only a few hours of driving. It made Stiles wonder just how many mages he may have met during his life.

On the way, Peter was obviously sulking like a child. Stiles had never seen him like this. Though he figured it was a mix of getting so close to his freedom and the fact that Stiles could and did order him around.

“You’ve gotten stronger.” Peter muttered from the passenger seat of the car as the scenery was passing by them on the chirpy autumn morning. Their fall was magnificent this year, full of sunshine and clear skies. Stiles loved it. He wasn’t really a person who would admire the weather, but he had to admit when something was pretty. Somehow it reminded him of his mother, of her last years. She was just like the autumn sunlight, warm and inspiring, refreshing in the cold hours of the day, but nearing an inevitable end.

“What?” Stiles asked, realizing that Peter was looking at him. “Did I?” he frowned at him for a second before turning his attention back at the road.

“My chains are especially strong.” the familiar commented.

“Oh… well…” Stiles felt his cheeks burn somehow. He wasn’t used to Peter complimenting him. Well, not in a way like this. And especially after their fight the other day.

“Now now, don’t get too full of yourself, red cheeks.” Peter smirked and that just made Stiles’ face burn more.

“Shut up, oh my god.” he hissed, refusing to look at Peter. But somehow he could tell the familiar was smiling. He more like felt it than saw it.

For a moment, Stiles wondered how Peter was before all this, before he wasn’t bitter and grabbed every opportunity for power. He was trying to remember his dreams, the glimpses of Peter he could get from them. Though as he was going through his memories, he realized why he didn’t like it.

Stiles didn’t like to think about their lives before… Because it wasn’t his life. It was his soul, yes, but does it make it his life? It wasn’t even on this Plane… It was Peter’s life, it still is. And Stiles didn’t like to think that Peter is still in love with that other him. With… whoever he was back then. The person who broke Peter’s soul.

“Did the fox ever show something else? Other than how you got like this?” Stiles wondered out loud.

“No.” Peter said softly. “And fairly, Stiles, I don’t really care about any of that.” he added.

“Not even me?” the boy asked, though he regretted it the moment he asked. Why would he want to know anything of that? Not even Peter was interested.

“Only that you took my life.” Peter said, his tone never changing. It just made it worse. Stiles bit in his lips, eyes on the road.

“I have dreams of us, you know, dreams where we…. do things.” he said.

“That’s how you know you loved me?” Peter asked, though didn’t sound too interested. So Stiles didn’t bother to answer.

“It’s just, I may have some idea who you were, some slight… glimpse, this tiny little idea that I have of you, but… you have any idea of me? Do you have those dreams?” Stiles asked.

“No.” Peter said.

“Not even one? Nothing?” Stiles tried.

“Until the fox showed it to me, I had no such dreams, Stiles.” Peter said, turning his gaze at the boy. Stiles looked at him for a moment, wondering if he was saying the truth. The truth he could so easily find in Peter’s head, but somehow refused to do it. Instead he just turned back to the road and drove.

In a few hours they arrived to their destination. To a small town at the side of the road, Stiles barely remembered the name of it. He just had the instructions on how to get to Sonja’s house. As they got there, Stiles took his phone and called her so he could introduce themselves. A moment later she appeared in the doorway, waving at them.

Sonja was…, well Stiles knew that every person was like a special snowflake, but who was he kidding, there were people who were more average than the rest. When he heard her voice he already imagined someone, an average girl with like brown hair and brown eyes. And Sonja was exactly like that; she wasn’t anything special. Stiles knew a lot people who would have been upset with this kind of appearance, but not Sonja. She was absolutely… vibrant. She was your nice neighbour who sometimes checked on you and brought you Christmas cookies.

“What did you say how old are you again?” Stiles asked as he followed her inside the house. And immediately slapped himself mentally, what kind of question was that?! She looked much younger, but then again not really… Could have been the short haircut, or the huge glasses on her nose, but something was strangely off putting about her and her age. That was the only thing about her.

“What did you say what was your name again?” Sonja asked over her shoulder with a mischievous smile and Stiles, for the first time, had a feeling she may not be that average after all. “And who is he?” Sonja asked as she motioned over the living room for them to sit down, but her curious eyes were on Peter.

“He’s uh…” Stiles started, not being sure how he should introduce Peter. Since he hadn’t met many mages yet he wasn’t sure what the protocol was when introducing someone’s familiar. Although he also stopped, noting that Peter seemed nervous. He was looking around the room, his shoulders tense, his hands in fists. It also didn’t help that Sonja gasped loudly the next moment.

“Oh my god, you’re a familiar aren’t you?!” she hurried to Peter. The wolf raised an eyebrow, looking at her like how he should snap her neck without anyone hearing it. “Wow, a powerful one even. What kind? A dog? No… a panther? No, that’s… A wolf? No way, you’ve got a wolf familiar?!” Sonja continued seemingly unaware of Peter’s growing disgust toward her. “That is so cool, how did you find him? Do you have the spell? How could you summon him?! Did it take a lot of blood?”

“Deaton didn’t tell you…?” Stiles asked quietly, but he was in a kind of shock. It was the first, the very first time someone was interested in Peter and not in a murderous way. Sonja was not just interested, but utterly _fascinated_ and excited by Peter.

“How did you know he’s a wolf—“ Stiles asked.

“I wrote my thesis on familiars and now I’m working on a few publications about them. Especially of horse familiars, now those are damn interesting. But a wolf? Oh my god, I never thought I’d meet one, I’m really glad we could, uh…”

“Peter.” the wolf sighed, walking away from them. Stiles could tell that he wasn’t amused by Sonja and of her reaction.

“I can see the little signs of familiar entities, one time they even called me for an investigation where I had to advise if the guy was a familiar or just completely mad. Turns out cats and their masters can be pretty bloodthirsty.” Sonja winced. “Did you give him his name?” she asked Stiles.

“No, actually… it’s his name. I didn’t give it… It’s, uh a bit complicated.” Stiles sighed, rubbing the back of his head. “Listen, we’re here for the… thing you said? That’s from Baator?” he would have loved to chat with Sonja, about anything at this point. But he wanted to get to the point, first he will sort out Peter’s business.

“Baator… yes, yes. I’m sorry I just got so excited, it’s not every day I meet a familiar like Peter. Can I ask him a few questions some time?” Sonja asked and motioned for Stiles to follow her. She guided him to a room that seemed like a bedroom with a desk. She had bookshelves all over the room, filled with books on magic and romantic fiction… Interesting choices, the boy wondered, but who was he to judge.

Sonja’s room didn’t look any different than a high school girl’s who reads too much. Until she took a small box from under her bed, placing it on the desk.

“Come here, both of you.” she said, taking a small key and opening the box. It seemed more like a treasure chest to Stiles, containing ordinary things to him, but apparently they were important for Sonja. “Here.” she whispered, reaching into the box and taking a small, black vial.

Stiles immediately felt nausea, for some reason, looking at the thick black material that the vial contained.

“If you feel like puking the bathroom’s that way.” Sonja said helpfully, setting her glasses. Stiles just closed his eyes for a second and tried to focus.

“Oookay, uh, what is that, what… is this? Exactly?” he asked, taking a deep breath.

“It’s poison.” it wasn’t Sonja who was speaking, but Peter. He was eying the vial with the exact same disgust as Stiles. “But it’s not ordinary poison.”

“On the Prime Material Plane it is. It’s just a simple, deadly poison. Just the scent of it can kill you.” Sonja spoke. “But in Baator, now, this is juice for the Banecourser. It’s what they eat.”

Stiles frowned heavily at the two. He was a mage, he heard of Planes before, but suddenly he felt like an idiot again.

“Care for someone explain it to the rest of the class too, please?” he asked. It was good he was annoyed, he at least wasn’t feeling like his stomach wanted to crawl up his throat and run away.

Sonja chuckled a little, while Peter rolled his eyes.

“I told you I’m writing my current thesis on horse familiars, right? Now, Banecourser is one of those.” Sonja said and took her phone from her pocket. “He is the mane of Baator, lives there in herds, roaming the dark lands and demanding food and orderrrr!” she grinned and showed a drawn picture to Stiles of a simple, black horse. “A few chronicles of this Plane also write of them, though very rarely, since their demand of poison is very tiring, even for mages who are experts in poisons.” Sonja spoke, swiping through the pictures on her phone, showing them to Stiles. From those pictures Stiles gathered that Banecourser is a black horse, with red stains and with a tongue like a snake’s. He had to admit, it was an intimidating sight and every arch evil should have had this horse when they went to battle.

“Cool, yes.” Stiles cleared his throat, sneaking a glance at Peter. This was already getting weird. He didn’t expect poison to show up. Not like this, not in a way that he has to be involved. Somehow he felt appalled of that thing. That thing killed things… and it was some horse’s lunch. “You really found this on a market?” Stiles asked, taking another sigh.

“Yes.” Sonja said, still swiping through the pictures on her phone. Stiles frowned, but decided not to point out her lie. They weren’t here for that. “So, before we continue,” Sonja said, closing the box and the poison in it. Her eyes somehow changed as she turned all her attention to Stiles. The boy couldn’t pinpoint it but it was like she had just grown a few years older and wiser. “Why are you interested?” she asked.

“I thought I told you already?” Stiles frowned. “I’m researching Baator—“ he said though he fell silent at the click of her tongue.

“No you’re not. Otherwise you’d have known about the Banecourser.” she said, holding up her finger. “Also, you have a familiar, a wolf one, the one with the name.” she added, looking at Peter.

“Well now, it wasn’t only you who researched familiars in depth.” Peter smirked, looking at Sonja like she was prey. Stiles moved so he was standing between Sonja and Peter.

“Okay- okay I lied, alright? I lied. I haven’t heard of Baator before!” the boy said, holding up his hands. “But I really need that vial.” he added, moving his hand in the general direction of the box.

Sonja frowned. All that innocence and childish excitement disappeared from her as she turned into a powerful mage right in front of Stiles’ eyes. The boy regretted not asking more about her magic, about how she came to know familiars, how she knew about Baator, the home of such destructive spell.

“Why?” she asked a simple question, but it was really difficult, Stiles realized. “It would be much better if you’d be honest with me. Both of you.” Sonja added quietly. Not as a friend or a mother, but as a mage. Stiles figured if you were dealing with deadly poisons there was no space for being naïve or stupid.

Stiles licked his lips as the silence hit.

“Oh girl,” Peter started with a chuckle. “Don’t make it difficult now. You knew something was up the moment the vet contacted you, you knew his story didn’t add up. And yet here we are, talking to you. In your house. Do you even know that not all those protection spells would work against me?” he asked, leaning over Stiles’ shoulder toward her.

“Wha—“ Stiles gasped. So that was what had gotten into Peter. Now that he took a moment he also felt the slight buzzing around them...

“I’m aware, though ‘not all’ doesn’t mean none.” Sonja retorted, raising an eyebrow. “The moment someone was asking about Baator it’s to be known something is up. In all of history, mages used the spells and power of Baator to release hell on this Plane.” she continued. “You wouldn’t believe how nasty this world would get with every touch of anything from Baator.”

“Wow…” Stiles gaped a little. He knew mages were involved in the making of history. Apparently it was something way more than he could have ever imagined.

“So, better just tell me what you two are up to or bear the consequences.” Sonja said, crossing her arms.

Before Stiles could stop him, Peter moved more into her space, his eyes flaring up with anger and electricity.

“I was there when most of these spells were made, little girl, and I’m sure I can break the rest and snap your neck if you won’t give us that vial.” he hissed. Stiles grabbed Peter’s shirt and tried to pull him back.

Though, Sonja didn’t budge.

“Aren’t _you_ vile?” she laughed a little, though without any humor. “It will be better if you tell me what’s up, and I’m serious here. I could call the police, or worse, hunters here. Telling them that you tried to rob me would be enough for you two to mess up this whole… thing you have, whatever it is.”

“You lured me here so you can see what I want to do with the poison?” Stiles asked in disbelief. “What if I was someone truly dangerous?!”

“Listen, Stiles, I had my methods and we don’t need another World War here, it’s already a sensitive balance to keep.” Sonja sighed, seemingly running out of patience. "You either talk, or I’m gonna call some people.”

“How should we know that you won’t call them when we’re telling our story?” Peter asked, his face starting to resemble more that of a wolf now, showing his anger.

“You will have to try me. When it comes to Baator, I’m not fucking around. If you two want anything, spill the beans or I’m not giving anything to you.” the girl retorted.

Stiles swallowed, then moved to release Peter.

“Do not hurt her.” he ordered, feeling his magic work this time. Peter still strained against the chains, though he didn’t touch Sonja. This time she stepped back a little.

When Stiles made sure that no blood will be shed in the next five minutes, he took his backpack and got his spellbook. He showed the cover to Sonja.

“Here, look at this. This… spell is written in the language of Baator.” he said, feeling Peter’s heavy gaze on him. “This spell is… what made Peter like this, this spell cursed him. But this one…” he turned the book. “This is the one that can make him whole again.”

Sonja frowned down at the letters, then reached for the book.

“May I?” she asked, taking it from Stiles’ trembling fingers. She read the words over and over again and Stiles could feel her magic react too. She couldn’t read them either, but due to the vile in the box, she could understand it. It made Stiles wonder just how involved she was in the business of Baator anyway.

“This spell… is very cruel. It’s indeed from Baator.” she nodded. “It’s almost impossible to cast it on this Plane without the right preparations. Is this your book?” she asked.

“Yes, it was my mother’s, she got it from her grandmother. It’s… running in the family for a while. So long I couldn’t trace its origins.” Stiles nodded, licking his lips.

“This is from Elysium, the language says it.” Sonja muttered, flipping it open just to scan a few spells. “So.” she started, closing the book and looking at Stiles and Peter. “I believe there’s a story here, care to share it with me?”

“No.” Peter said at the same time as Stiles said ‘Yes.’ The wolf rolled his eyes, but let his master talk next.

“Well…” Stiles licked his lips. “If… you have some food I’d gladly hold a Story Time Afternoon.” he shrugged.

“Very well.” Sonja grinned, handing back the book. “I order the food. Until then come and let’s talk.”

And they did. Stiles told how he summoned Peter for the first and second time. He told about the vision, about their involvement in the lives they shared. Though he conveniently left out the part where he let Peter crawl between his legs during the nights. That was still forbidden and Sonja didn’t ask, so not telling that one, nope. Also, this was his introduction to the magic user community and he wanted to do it as flawlessly as he could.

After they finished talking, the stars and the moon were already high on the sky. Sonja rubbed her forehead in a way that showed she had to sort out and deal with a lot of information.

“Damn, Stiles. That’s actually heavy.” she sighed, staring at the remains of the pizza they finished a while ago on the kitchen table. “I’m not even sure what I’d feel if I were in your place. I mean… killing a person is one thing, but breaking his soul? That’s… cruel.” she was searching for that word, but still wasn’t sure it was the right one.

“Yeah I know… I’m still dealing with it.” Stiles joked, with a half smile.

“And what a coincidence that you two had met…” Sonja frowned. “Though I guess it was bound to happen after a while.” she added with a sigh.

“Will you help us now?” Stiles asked, tilting his head at her. She sighed again as she fell in deep thought. She was such a façade, Stiles wondered during the silence. She was wearing a young, cheerful attitude with such awe and curiosity for the world, but if you tapped that glass a little something else appeared: the mage. She was a powerful mage with the magic of the Plane Arcadia and she has seen some things. She knew a lot about the Planes and how those affect the Prime Material Plane which was the most precious of all, and the one that was truly magical. It was even more chaotic than Limbo, mostly because it was vivid. It was Hell for some, it was Heaven to others, but never neutral, yet… neither of the alignments were overpowering on it. Apparently, this was the key to it. The balance didn’t have to be protected, but the people living on the plane did. That was why Sonja was so cautious.

“I will.” Sonja nodded after a while. “This is very interesting, I don’t think I have seen anything like this. Where two souls would meet again in such manner.” she said, looking at Peter sitting next to Stiles. “I would be happier if I could research this spell in more depth, if it was used anywhere else. It could be possible that it was your soul who wrote it, Stiles.” she said.

“What…? But my magic is from Elysium.” Stiles frowned.

“It is, but… this spell is written like the creator had to force their hand with it. It was like they were trying to remember the words.” Sonja nodded. “Maybe you… the you before, went out with all their strength and created this spell in the language of Baator, because it would be stronger that way. They didn’t want to take chances. They wanted this spell to work no matter what.”

Stiles felt nausea again. Was he really this evil in his life on Elysium? He was working this hard on a spell that would ruin his lover’s life? For what reason?

“Stiles?” Sonja asked, leaning closer when the boy didn’t speak for a while.

“Ah, uh, sorry I was just… thinking. I mean… I’m trying to figure out this guy I was in this life.” Stiles sighed.

“Aw, Stiles, you don’t have to. They were different from you, their whole Plane was different. If that doesn’t help in this then…” she smiled reassuringly.

“I know, but… he was from Elysium. It’s a Plane which is not evil, or cruel… yet I’ve seen war there, and now this spell… I’m confused.” Stiles spread his hands.

“Listen, let me say one thing: it’s already a huge deal that you kind of remember who you were in a previous life. Begin to understand it? It’s almost impossible. Let’s just roll with what you have.” Sonja smiled a little. “It’s a good thing you want to help. It suits your alignment.” she added amused.

“Thanks.” Stiles sighed, casting a glance at Peter who pretended he wasn’t there. “We should really go now, so shall I come back another time or…?”

“I’ll give you the poison, it’s fine.” Sonja said. “But if you won’t give it back I’m really going to call the cops.”

“Even if you could come after me all by yourself. I mean… from what I gathered you know a lot and you’re strong. The magic in this house is making me twitchy.” Stiles grinned. Sonja mirrored his expression.

“Yeah, but the police involvement is much more fun.” she shrugged.

“One day you tell me your story.” Stiles said.

“Maybe when you bring back my stuff.” she laughed a bit tired. “I’m gonna get you a container to keep the vial in, I mean you don’t want anyone to take it after all. Also, I’ll email you a few people I know who may help you in your quest. I’ll send a word about you to them.”

“Wow that’s so nice…” Stiles frowned.

“We have to help each other, no? We mages have to.” she sighed. Stiles laughed a little. He knew what she meant. In this day and age mages were not welcomed with joy and hope. They were feared and followed with close eyes for when they go lethal or insane. They were framed for murders because of fear and Stiles knew all this. Even his mother had to suffer this kind of prejudice.

“Yes.” Stiles agreed in a more trembling voice then he wanted to.

“Oh and… when all this is over, and you get a good grade… I’ll introduce you to a few of my friends.” Sonja added. Stiles knew what that meant: that he will finally be part of the magical society.

Sonja prepared the vial for them, safely tucked away in an enchanted cookie box. She also assured them she will contact them with names who to ask about Baator.

\--

“That went easy.” Stiles yawned when they were back on the road the next morning. “Though I don’t think just that potion will be enough for me to cast the spell.”

“Obviously, it’s too weak for your Elysium magic.” Peter nodded. Stiles could tell he was still sulking from earlier. “But it’s a start.”

“I like her.” the boy said.

“I don’t. She’s too cocky, too know-it-all.” Peter retorted immediately, crossing his arms.

“Just like you, dude, just like you.” Stiles chuckled, glancing at Peter for a second. “That’s why I like her.” he said.

“Now, if I wouldn’t know better I’d say you’re trying to make me jealous.” Peter raised an eyebrow. Stiles just grinned.

“Would it work?” he asked.

“You forget I can read your thoughts, and I can tell when you’re just pulling my leg, Stiles. Oh heavens, this is why you’re still an apprentice mage.” Peter sighed.

Stiles just hit him with his elbow, though he was glad the familiar wasn’t sulking anymore. Or not that much. He was also happy that his contact with his first mage wasn’t so bad. Nothing terrible happened and no one died. It was a start of something great, something that Stiles was dreaming of for the longest time.

\--

The next few days Sonja had given them another person to contact. She said that there were most probably many other things of Baator lying around the Plane, but they either don’t want to be found or worse, were already found and used… Though, Stiles wondered, If Baator had littered all over the Prime Material Plane then there must be things of other Planes too.

“Definitely. For example this very book.” Peter nodded when Stiles shared his idea with him. “This book here is right from Elysium.” he said.

Stiles frowned. Somehow, he realized that he knew that before Peter pointed it out. No, he kind of felt it… and now he knew it.

“Oh, right.” he muttered, watching as the wolf was lying on his bed, and read the spell once again on the cover. Peter basically never let go of the book since they revealed the spell on it. It was like he was physically holding onto his last chance to freedom. “What will you do… when you’re free?” Stiles asked quietly.

“Probably I’ll forget this all happened.” Peter snorted, not turning his gaze away from the book. His lines were so harsh, Stiles wondered, though he can’t age, Peter looked really old. Not in human years, but in a way when a person grows old after they survive a long and hard sickness, or are still battling with it. Peter was like that. He had a sickness and he found the cure.

“But if you could remember, if you’d remember that you were trapped all those years before, what would you do? The very first thing?” Stiles insisted. Finally Peter moved his head to turn his gaze at him.

“Now, if I’d remember all of this, I’d go mad instantly.” he said with such a tone that made Stiles believe it was probably true. “But, let’s say, if I’m over the insanity and the impossible of it all, I’d probably…” he started, but trailed off. His eyes fell back on the black ink on the book.

Peter didn’t answer for the longest time. And Stiles realized he won’t. Because he couldn’t. Peter had no damn idea what he wanted to do when he was free. How tragic, Stiles wondered, and maybe for the very first time he felt really sad for Peter. After all those times, all those years, he wanted to be free and soon he will be . And he had no idea what to do with it.

“I’ll figure out when I’m there. My new life will make sure of it.” Peter snorted. “I’ll leave this life and be reborn after a while.”

“Right.” Stiles cleared his throat, rubbing his cheek as he looked around the room. “You won’t even ask me?” he asked.

“You’re already free—“

“That what I’m going to do when you’re gone.” Stiles said. “You promised the world to me, Peter.” he added quietly as the wolf was looking at him. Peter eyed him as if he had found something shiny in the dirt. Could be a coin, a diamond, or just a bottle cap.

“You’re especially sensitive tonight.” Peter remarked with a raised eyebrow. “What happened, Stiles?”

Stiles hated the tone Peter used, as if he wasn’t taking him seriously. Probably that, yes.

“It’s just I’m going to end up at square one after this.” he lied, spreading his arms. “You’ll go and have yourself another life and I’m going to be stuck here… and… just be by myself.”

“And that’s enough, Stiles. It was you alone who summoned me the very first time after all.” Peter said. Stiles shook his head.

“Don’t try to make it better, you can’t. Let’s just go to sleep.” the boy sighed.

“I could go and leave you to it.” the wolf offered helpfully.

“You can kiss my ass, that’s what you can do.” Stiles snapped. “I’m not going to let you out of my sight Peter, I’m not that irresponsible.” he hissed.

“This feel of distrust’s really starting to annoy me...” Peter narrowed his eyes. “You would have given your life for me back then.”

“Back then everything was different, Peter. I was a fool and the fox wasn’t fucking everything up yet.”

“Trying to kill you doesn’t count as fucking up?”

“You know what I mean, Peter!” Stiles huffed. Peter was looking at him for the longest time, then put the book down. He held his hand out for him.

“Come here then.” Peter started so softly Stiles froze for a moment. “Be next to me.” the wolf repeated when the boy just eyed him suspiciously.

Stiles licked his lips and didn’t move.

“I’m not sure I want to.” he admitted.

“Why, just because we’re having a fight?” the familiar asked, frowning.

“Because the one you love is not me.” Stiles sighed. “I mean… it’s me, it’s just a different me. A very different me.”

“Oh.” Peter muttered. “Why do you think?” he asked.

“I… just…” Stiles felt his cheeks burn up. He really had no idea, he just had a feeling that night when Peter came back and they made love. And Peter was talking about how Stiles cursed him.

“Come here.” the wolf called again.

Stiles swallowed and moved from his desk to sit on the bed by Peter. He didn’t want to tell him he’s confused about the two of them. He didn’t want Peter to know. Even Stiles wasn’t sure what he was feeling or how he should handle this, if he handles this properly at all. He had no idea of anything anymore.

Though, he could pretend a little, that everything was fine, that what they were doing wasn’t taboo and he leaned over for a kiss. Peter was so warm in different ways under his touch. He was warm like a cup of tea with rum on a winter night, but he was also warm like a forest fire after lightning hit it. Dangerous and exciting and fatal. That was all Peter, and Stiles was dragging him around on a thin leash, just because Peter hadn’t had a good reason to turn against him yet.

“I’ve read about a few of your masters.” Stiles muttered as Peter placed soft, gentle kisses on his shoulder. “They were all powerful, some were even mentioned in history books… I never knew you worked for Rasputin.” he wondered.

“Ah, such an unthankful master.” Peter snorted.

“You killed him?”

“Oh no, I didn’t have to, he had such charming personality others did the honor. Though barely.” Peter smirked, kissing under Stiles’ ear. “Now, little boy, what if you’d use your mouth for something else?” he asked in a low tone. Stiles felt their magic vibrate through their skin, even if they were still dressed. Which was very bad. He wanted to feel Peter’s skin under his fingers, under his tongue, and against his body.

“Call me master and I maybe will.” he whispered, arching up to push his chest against Peter’s.

“Master.” Peter smirked and Stiles knew he was just teasing him.

“Fuck you.” Stiles hissed.

“We’re getting there.” Peter smirked and turned them around so he pinned Stiles down on the bed. The boy let him, but his shoulders tensed up.

“You really want me to pleasure you like that?” Stiles asked, as if it was a challenge.

“Yes.” Peter’s eyes lit up and Stiles smirked at the thirst in them.

“Call me Master.” the boy demanded. “For real.” Peter growled deep in his throat, struggling against the order and Stiles let him. Both of their powers were picking up, testing each other, it was something truly exciting. Something Stiles loved to feel. He just realized that he wasn’t better than Peter; power made him excited in more ways than one. “Call me.” Stiles’ lips moved into a too wide, obsessed grin.

Peter bared his teeth and put his palm next to Stiles’ head as a form of intimidation. The boy’s heart was beating faster, but he didn’t budge.

“Just this once and I’ll give it to you.” he purred, his hands sliding up on Peter’s chest, feeling his heartbeat under his fingertips. Stiles trembled at the sensation, his eyes searching Peter’s. “Come o--hhn…” he started, but the familiar interrupted him by pushing his hips down on his.

“Don’t make me do it, not now…” Peter was out of breath and Stiles almost came then and there. To have such power over the wolf, it was intoxicating.

Stiles couldn’t bear it anymore and pushed at Peter to go and taste him. The familiar knew, or more like felt what he wanted and turned them over. The boy scrambled to get on his knees and free Peter of his clothes.

“I want--” Peter growled, grabbing a hold of Stiles’ hair.

“I know what you want.” Stiles licked his lips and took Peter’s length, to finally take it to his tongue. “And you also know what I want.” he whispered into the hot skin, his lips caressing it every time they moved. Peter twitched every moment Stiles touched him, either by lips or tongue, or his magic…

“Don’t test me.” Peter groaned, his grip tightening in the strands of his master’s hair.

“I’m the one giving the orders here.” Stiles hissed, looking up with eyes intense as fire into Peter’s cold ones. “I am your master.”

Maybe Stiles was still angry. Maybe. But it didn’t matter, because he could make Peter fight for control… and the wolf enjoyed it. Stiles knew because he kept the proof of it in his grip, tasting his victory.

“No, no-- not yet…!” Peter gasped, when he felt Stiles magic act up. The boy wasn’t looking away from him as he slowly stroked his aching cock, taking a deliberate lick here and there. Peter was under a serious attack here. This had never happened to him before.

“What? I’m just giving it to you.” Stiles smirked. Peter groaned, throwing his head back. He didn’t mean it like this, but apparently he was out of words. Damn it, the boy was really getting stronger with his magic.

“Stiles!” Peter warned, but it was too late. He couldn’t hold himself against those fingers sticky with power and magic, that velvet tongue that was more sinful than anything Peter did and those eyes… The familiar cursed as he felt Stiles take him deep into his mouth, making him come harder and more desperate. Peter felt his body wanting to pour everything into Stiles and even more. When it ended it didn’t feel finished… and Peter hated it. He knew it was also Stiles’ doing. “Don’t… don’t get too carried away…” the wolf panted, brushing his forehead with the back of his hand as he looked at Stiles.

The boy grinned at him, too proud of himself.

“What’s wrong? I haven’t even started yet…” he said, wiping his lower lip with his thumb and straddled Peter’s hips.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please remember this was written for Nanowrimo so I was trying to make it as long as possible. XD And I did it by introducing another, older fandom of mine. You'll see what I'm talking about.
> 
> Proofread by Evy~

Sonja said that she will send word ahead and Stiles also contacted this person, but he had no answer. Sonja also said that she received no reply, but she urged Stiles to go and meet them in person. He had no idea why she would say that, but alright, he will just barge in unexpected… Though the description Sonja gave him was very vague and he had little idea how he should find this… Bacchus person.

All Stiles was told was that Bacchus had come from Japan for only these two weeks. They could be found in a small theater they rented for this period of time near Los Angeles, California.

Sonja said that Stiles should meet them there. Right, be as vague as you can, Sonja, Stiles thought as he was looking around the parking lot of the theater Sonja’d described. It was already getting dark.

“I… guess now we wait?” Stiles offered to a very unimpressed Peter.

“Wait until eternity? I don’t plan on doing that.” the wolf huffed.

“I doubt it will be for eternity, Peter, don’t be so dramatic.” Stiles sighed, but at that moment he heard something in the background.

“We have to get dramatic!” someone shouted in a rather powerful voice. The wind carried their words like one would the Olympic torch and Stiles felt goosebumps on his skin. Whoever spoke was very, very powerful. Only these few words were brushing against his magic, testing and trying and playing and it was marvelous. He also felt Peter react.

“I don’t suppose it’s them?” Peter asked, looking around.

“I…” Stiles started, but immediately stopped.

The next moment they were surrounded by dark shadow figures from all round. They were surrounded and Stiles didn’t hear a thing. He cast a quick glance at Peter just to confirm that this was also unexpected for the wolf. Stiles was trying to search for words or acts that could get them out of this shit, but he froze. The air was vibrating with magic in the air; there was more than one mage in the shadows. It was getting intense and the boy was hating himself that he didn’t ask for more info from Sonja.

“We—“ he started, but Peter also spoke.

“Now now, we don’t want trouble, do we?” he asked, growling in his chest, clearly threatening the people surrounding them. Stiles facepalmed.

“No we don’t.” someone said, but Peter didn’t wait for them to finish. He launched at the one who spoke so fast that Stiles couldn’t order him to stop. The boy barely could gather air in his lungs.

“The fuck are you doing--!” he shouted as he watched Peter slash open one of the shadows. Which disappeared. There was no one there.

“Cloaking…?” Peter whispered, looking around in angry confusion.

“Peter stop, Jesus Christ, we came here to talk to them, not to hurt them!” Stiles shouted. “Don’t you dare hurt anyone.” he ordered, he could feel his magic working, but there was so much static in the air that he wasn’t sure if it really was…

Peter stopped nonetheless and that was at least good. Though his electric blue eyes were roaming all over the place, searching for Bacchus.

“Look at that dog, what a stupid little dog!” someone laughed high and shrieking, sending goosebumps down Stiles neck. Suddenly the person appeared from the darkness… above their heads. Stiles gasped.

The boy was barely older than seventeen, but he had much more and wilder magic than Stiles when he was that age…It was too dark to properly see him, but Stiles could swear he saw the boy’s eyes flash green as he was jumping… Wait, he wasn’t jumping. He was _flying_.

The moment Stiles realized that he was watching a guy in the air, flying, the others appeared too, like birds circling their prey to attack.

“Woof woof, puppy!” someone else laughed, whooshing past Peter, who strained against his chains to attack them. Their words had a slight accent in them.

“What a pair of idiots! Get lost you sons of bitches!” a guy roared angrily, pushing past Stiles with a yellow flash. Stiles realized that these boys had a few things in common: they were all wearing the same plaid patterned outfit, only with slight differences. The plaid pattern seemed to be something that was common. The other thing was that all of them had roller blades on… Some kind of altered ones, but the most interesting thing was the gears,  they had tiny, light green wings on both sides.

“The Hermes spell…” Peter muttered from next to Stiles, his claws out thought he was watching the three circling them with great awareness. “It’s very powerful.”

“It can make you fly?” Stiles frowned.

“Oh yes, young boy!” suddenly the voice they heard before was back. The voice that could make the whole parking lot shake with tension and magic and Stiles wondered if this was the voice of a true mage. Of a mage that could control armies, beasts and anything they wanted. “Me and my team enslaved this spell to use it for our aid out in the world to fly through the death and misery of the thing that’s called a mortal life. Oh, look at you, such an imbecile!”

The one who spoke didn’t look older than fifteen to Stiles’ biggest surprise. He stopped in mid-air in front of them, wearing the same plaid patterned costume with black pants. The cape he was wearing around his shoulders may have been a sign that he was the leader? A black cape with golden lining. It was somehow glowing even in this barely lit night, and Stiles suspected some magic there too.

“Um…” Stiles started, watching as all the others started their frantic flying again, surrounding them in midair like dark ghosts.  It was an intimidating sight, but Stiles also felt some kind of excitement. He wanted this “Hermes spell”. But first things first… “I came here to talk to you. Sonja said she’ll send word for me, have you gotten her message?”

Suddenly, there was silence. Only the crickets were chirping in the bushes around the lot. The boy with the amazing voice frowned at Stiles as if he was trying to decipher his language.

“Sonja? Oh, Sonja that lovely-lovely child!” he gasped, clapping his hands together. “Oh my, has she written? Did she find the perfect familiar for me? Puck, Puuuck!” he shouted suddenly, looking around for that person called Puck.

The boy with the green yellowish eyes zoomed to him with the biggest grin on his playful lips.

“ _Yes, my king Romeo?_ ” the guy called Puck was speaking Japanese to his leader. Stiles had no idea what was going on.

“ _Have we gotten any mails from Sonja lately?_ ” Romeo asked back.

Stiles could barely believe what was happening. He was standing in a parking lot, surrounded by a team of mages with _magical fucking rollerblades_ , who are most probably discussing their damn emails. Such. Nerds. Stiles almost felt ashamed, even if he counted as a nerd too. But these guys were far worse, they went all out.

“ _No, my lord, there were no mails from Sonja lately— But let me check the Spam, because our princess likes to put a few emails there._ “

“ _How what?_ ” another person from behind ‘Romeo’ shrieked. Stiles just noticed him too. “ _Why would I do such a thing, I don’t even have access to the emails—_ “

“ _Oh boo-hoo, princess, everyone has access, tell Romeo how you delete the emails you don’t like. The mails which come from fangirls!_ ”

“ _And you delete the mails that come from fanboys!_ ” Princess retorted over Romeo’s shoulder.

“ _Enough my loyal minions!_ ” Romeo shouted suddenly. “ _Give me that!_ ” he huffed, taking Puck’s phone to look through it. “Oh… Ooooh, Sonja’s email’s here in Junk, there must have been some mess up with the settings again.” he muttered in English this time. Stiles couldn’t help noticing a tongue sticking out from Puck’s mouth at the boy he called Princess.

“Oh my, ooh my Shakespeare, this is embarrassing. Sonja told you two are to be trusted. So you haven’t come here to spy on us?” Romeo asked frowning, handing the phone back to Puck.

“Of course not.” Stiles snorted a bit confused.

“Don’t get too cocky, why would anyone spy on all this.” Peter added, motioning all over them truly annoyed.

“For our wonderfully crafted play!” Romeo gasped, clasping his palms at his cheeks. Stiles wasn’t sure if he was serious. Or more like he wanted it not to be serious...

“ _Oh my Romeo, they have come such a long way to see your play, this is such an honor._ ” Princess smiled at the boy.

“ _Oh, Juliet, your words are too kind!_ ” Romeo sighed, turning to the boy for a moment, taking his hand and kissing his fingers. Stiles wondered if he was a part of a mass hallucination.

“No, wait… we’re here for something else, uh…can- can you come down? I mean it’s a bit awkward talking up to you.” Stiles motioned toward Romeo.

“How dare you fucking order our Lord around, have you got a death wish!?” the long haired boy hissed, already flying toward Stiles, getting up all into his face with. “You have no word here, you should be happy you still have a head, you dumb--!” his accent was thick but that didn’t stop him to insult and challenge Stiles. Peter also moved toward him.

“It’s okay, Macbeth, we don’t want our guests to feel too intimidated. I mean they are here to adore us and who we are!” Romeo spoke as he slowly descended to the ground. As soon as his feet were flat on the ground Stiles could guess why he preferred the air. Romeo was a head shorter than him. Juliet, who stood close behind him was taller, and he looked at Stiles with the friendliest smile he’d ever seen. It looked a bit like a painting of a clown that was trying too hard to smile.

“So can we talk?” Stiles asked, watching as all the members were standing behind Romeo. Though not to hide. It was like they were watching. And they would be at your throat at the first suspicious sign.

“We can talk indeed my friend!” Romeo smiled, open and accepting. Which was clashing greatly with his team’s sour expressions. “I’m sorry, what was your and your dog’s name again?” Romeo asked as if he was snapping out of a trance.

“I- My name is Stiles Stilinski. And his is Peter, m-my familiar.” Stiles introduced themselves. Peter wasn’t moving or saying anything. He was almost mirroring Romeo’s team’s stance. “And you’re…?”

“We’re Bacchus!” Romeo spread his arms and suddenly all his team was striking some kind of… group pose. As if they were posing for a picture. Stiles quickly looked around if there was a camera somewhere, but then Romeo continued. “Let us introduce ourselves!” he said, motioning over Macbeth, the boy with the long hair, who seemed the tallest in the group.

“The Angry Macbeth, that’s me!” he shouted, cocking up his chin at Stiles in a challenging motion. Suddenly Stiles realized this guy could kill him without any magic if he wanted to…

“Hamlet, the Melancholic!” another guy introduced himself, holding onto a handkerchief.

“Puck the Confused!” green eyed guy spoke, striking a grinning pose. “And the King of Bugs. And the—“

“I’m the Joyful Juliet!” the boy by Romeo’s side interrupted Puck for his greatest annoyance with the most perfect British English Stiles had ever heard. But when he wanted to continue, their leader, Romeo spoke.

“And I’m their Leader, Romeo.” he said proudly. “We all share a great love to our master Shakespeare, one of the biggest mages out there, that’s why we tribute him this way!”

Stiles didn’t ask why they were using Shakespeare names, he didn’t really care. Though as he was looking over this group he really wondered how the heck they have anything to do with Baator and if Sonja just set him up for a laugh.

“Let’s go you two, you must be cold and hungry. You know what, I will invite all of you to a dinner!” Romeo shouted, throwing his fist up in the air. And the others were cheering with joy.

“Is this a good idea?” Peter asked then as Romeo motioned them to follow them. “These are all powerful mages, Stiles. Do you really want to be in one room with them?” he asked, eying Macbeth especially.

“Do I have a choice? They- they are special, that’s true, but they have the thing from Baator.” Stiles said.

“What did that girl say, what kind of thing do they have?” the wolf asked.

“Uh… A… I--- don’t know.” Stiles rubbed his forehead. “Sonja didn’t tell me.” Peter took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment.

“So we have no idea what we’re looking for?” he asked.

“I thought these people will tell me. Sonja sent word and they sure acted more friendly when her name came up. Let’s just go with the flow for now—“

“You want that spell, don’t you?” Peter huffed.

“Wha- I- Well… well wouldn’t you?! That spell is the shit and I want to learn it.” Stiles hissed.

“Huh.” Peter smiled a little as they were walking.

“What?” the boy snapped.

“We met because you wanted to fly.” the wolf wondered out loud. “You casted that spell of the wings…”

“And you tore them out.” Stiles whispered, eying the familiar. Though his tone wasn’t accusing. It was more fond. Peter saved his life back there, the very first order he’d given the wolf to help him. To a familiar who was trained to kill, who rather killed his masters than to obey. But he obeyed Stiles and helped him, saved his life and the scars on Stiles’ back will always remind him of that.

“Hey, are you two idiots coming?! I don’t want to be late for Romeo’s dinner!” Puck shouted at them.

“Yeah, we are!” Stiles shouted back a bit annoyed.

“Don’t take him too seriously, he’s really just a brat.” someone -who was he again?- Hamlet turned back to them with an amused smile. “As your master said, it’s better to roll with this now, wolf.” he winked.

Stiles swallowed. Talking and just meeting with other spellusers was such an experience. They knew him, they knew Peter and if he told him about spells and spellbooks and magical trees, they would ask which Plane, if they know the alteration of the spell and that their magical trees were not cut out. Suddenly, Stiles had the overwhelming feeling to travel the world and meet every single one of the spellusers. He wanted to meet the shamans of the rainforests, he wanted to see the snowmages on the South, he wanted to have tea with the witches in Europe and make fireworks with the masters of China. He wanted it all, he realized. Though, the itch in his chest was making him take a trembling breath when he also realized he may have to do all of that without Peter. Because Peter was on his way to freedom.

Romeo led them to a diner nearby. It wasn’t anything fancy, but Bacchus handled it like it was the most exquisite French restaurant they had been to. Well, at least Romeo and Juliet. The rest of the group acted like their children...

It seemed like it will be a long night and Stiles really considered letting Peter go for the night. It was kind of uncomfortable sitting in one huge booth next to Bacchus and watching them have… a dinner.

“The fuck you looking at?” Macbeth tested Peter again, leaning toward him at one point over his fries. His long, yellow dyed hair was brushing the leftovers on his plate. The familiar didn’t budge.

“Just fascinated by how big this zoo we call our world is.” Peter muttered with the nicest smile Stiles ever saw him wear.

“Are you calling me an animal?” Macbeth roared. But before he could reach Peter Puck was shouting from next to him.

“I wanna be a monkey!”

“You already are, Puck!” the yellow haired guy hissed at him.

“You two, stop it! Mind your manners!” Hamlet huffed at them, fussing with his salad. “We have guests, and Romeo accepted them. So just, behave.”

“I don’t give a crap about that, they are not my guests—“ Puck stuck his tongue out at Stiles.

“Puck, my friend!” Romeo spoke again from the other side of the table. Suddenly there was such a silence in the whole place. Everyone was paying attention to them and Stiles wanted to just disappear. “Hamlet and Macbeth, these people Su—Sutaaairusu and Peter are my guests and we are going to show them what we are made of, that we accept all mages and familiars of all kind. We, Bacchus, the Drama Club of the Night—“

“Drama Club..?” Stiles swallowed, looking at Peter for a moment.

“… won’t let anyone feel bad in our presence, that we decided right, my faithful followers?”

“Oh Romeo, you are so good with words, I’m amazed!” Juliet sighed, from his seat looking at Romeo as if he was the light in the night.

“No we haven’t decided any of that.” Hamlet frowned, side eying Romeo.

“ _I don’t remember anything like that either._ ” Puck blew a raspberry, turning away.

Romeo stood there in silence, clearly torn between the mixed reaction of the audience, while Juliet was pouting at them. In the end he collected himself.

“But now I say so, these mages are my guests and we shall make them welcome! My good friend was sending her word for them.” Romeo said, making a dramatic pose with his cape, making his utensils hit the floor. Yes, he was still wearing his cape. Which was ridiculous. But Stiles was actually wondering how Romeo was still appearing… less than an idiot. The others were, really, but Romeo could wear who he was with pride, and with a way that would make people look at him.

“Is this real?” Stiles asked himself, so Peter didn’t really answer. But he wanted to.

As Romeo and Juliet were fussing over the dropped forks and knives, Hamlet turned to Stiles. He brushed the fake orange strands from his eyes as he looked at him.

“And how about your magic, oh you mage? What kind it is?” he asked. Stiles frowned a little, eying the guy. He felt like this was a bit of an intimate question, yet he answered.

“My magic… It’s from Elysium.” Stiles muttered, not giving much thought to it.

“Oh Elysium, those golden skies, those colorful meadows… and the castles…!” Hamlet sighed in a dramatic fashion, clutching his hands to his chest.

“How do you know how it looks like…?” Stiles asked with a frown.

“I read it.” Hamlet smirked. “Our Romeo has the spellbook which describes each of the Planes.”

Stiles nodded, with his eyes wide in curiosity. All the Planes? Maybe that’s the thing they were looking for.

“Even Baator?” Stiles asked, and suddenly all chitchat died at the table. Puck looked at Stiles as if he just insulted his mother, Juliet’s head appeared from under the table and tried to look at Stiles. “Um?” the boy blinked at them. “What? Baator is one of the Planes.”

“It is indeed, young mage!” Romeo started, jumping from his seat again. Juliet gave a small shriek, reaching for him as if he was about to go on a long journey. “Baator is the most cruel, most evil place amongst the Planes. It’s evil, because they know how to—“

“Yes, yes I know they know how to spread evil, they are organized and tactical and—“ Stiles started, but when he realized there was a kind of silence surrounding him too he stopped. All of Bacchus was staring at him as if he had just killed their mothers and spat on their graves.

“Youngling, I prefer you not to interrupt me!” Romeo gasped, pulling his cape around him. “As I was saying… Errr, so why do you want to know of Baator so badly? Even Sonja mentioned something…” he frowned.

“I am looking for things that come from Baator, anything that can be connected to that Plane.” Stiles said, also standing up to be at level with Romeo. This was the real talk here. “It may be the Spellbook you use, with the description of Baator in it.”

Romeo snorted, shaking his head.

“Why would anyone look for things from Baator and not have malicious intends? Baator has been here before, it was being rampant and destroyed many.” Romeo said as if it had happened with him personally. Juliet sighed for effect, shaking his head, the others shook their heads at the tragedy.

“I… I want to cast a spell. It’s not- it’s not a bad spell!” Stiles said, when Macbeth shot his head toward him like he was about to jump at him again. “It’s…” the boy sighed, looking at Peter next to him. “I want to help Peter. I- I want to free him of his curse.” Stiles said.

He heard Peter sigh in defeat as he started about their journey. How he met Peter and how he found out who Peter was. And then he showed Bacchus the book he had.

“Oh, Stiles…” Romeo muttered in awe as he was holding the book in his hand and brushing his fingers over the words of the spell. “You’re… you’re indeed such a noble soul, such sacrifice of self, such… love!” he sighed, looking dramatically at Juliet. “Just like ours, my love!”

“Oh Romeo!” Juliet gasped and held out his hand for Romeo to kiss his fingers. Stiles swallowed, cheeks burning.

“No, no no no, nothing like that, no, no love involved I just--- I-I just can’t help knowing that he’s like that because of me.” he held up his hands, his face tomato red. “See? So I don’t want to hurt anyone, I really don’t, I just want to help him.”

“Ah, such devotion for the right cause, your magic is indeed from Elysium.” Romeo sighed, laying another kiss on Juliet’s fingers.

“Although…” Juliet spoke this time. “It’s such a weird thing… having a spell that frees someone from their curse written in Baator’s language.”

“What’s so weird about it?” Stiles asked, sitting back down.

“Well, it’s just that Baator isn’t for lifting curses. They _place_ the curses.” Juliet said, tilting his head to the side, looking at Stiles as if he was something shiny and mildly interesting in a shop.

“Yeah, but… the curse is already done. Peter’s a slave now.” Stiles explained. Juliet’s gaze flickered to the familiar for a second. “But now it’s time to break that curse.”

“Baator is not that kind, honey.” Juliet muttered. “It will not break a curse without something in return.”

Stiles frowned at Juliet. In return? Though, if Peter’s soul was broken, it meant that return was the remaining pieces for his soul, so the spell was still working. Yet he wasn’t too convinced as he was watching Juliet.

“Oh, Juliet, love of my life, you’re scaring our guests!” Romeo sighed dramatically, pulling the boy to him.

“Well if anyone it’s Juliet who knows the most about Baator’s magic either way.” Puck said, rolling his eyes.

“Oh my, it’s getting so late. Maybe we should leave, Romeo, I really don’t want to interrupt your beauty sleep, love.” Juliet started suddenly, gasping.

“Is it… I mean, yes, yeah, we shouldn’t waste time from sleep, even though you don’t need to be more beautiful than you already are, Juliet. You are like the sun in the sky, a diamond in the rough, sparkling through dust and dirt even in its worst hours. Oh, Juliet, you are perfect!”

“Romeo, your words humble me. You’re like the sky to my sun, you are the one I’m here for, and no one else!” Juliet sighed dramatically. Puck gagged and Peter rolled his eyes.

“No, wait, talk to me about Baator—“ Stiles gasped, reaching for them as if to stop Bacchus from leaving..

“Young man, I believe you already had your share of the fair lady tonight. Tomorrow’s a new day and new opportunities. Please, let my love and my team leave to our accommodations. We all are a bit jet lagged form the journey still.” Romeo started, with great arm movements.

“But!” Stiles tried.

“Tomorrow’s a new day, Stiles.” Romeo repeated and Stiles felt his magic brush up against him. It made him angry for a moment. Romeo didn’t seem older than sixteen and he already had such powerful skills.

“Okay.” Stiles heard himself say and watched Bacchus leave and Macbeth flipping him off behind Romeo’s back. As Bacchus left, Stiles felt like he was just freed from a trance. “What the…” he frowned, looking at Peter.

“Nice little spell isn’t it? I call it the conversation killer.” Peter snorted, putting his elbows on the table, watching the door where Bacchus just left. Stiles wanted to hit something, he had no such cool spells. Hell, he had no spells at all… Making pictures come alive wasn’t that cool. “I’m not sure why we were made to meet them.” the wolf started.

“You heard them, they have information.” the boy said, rubbing his eyes.

“But that’s all they have. Nothing else. We need objects and not knowledge.” Peter said. “We are being deceived.”

Stiles didn’t say anything. They were an interesting bunch of individuals, especially Romeo, but they really had nothing to offer them.

“Let’s just visit them tomorrow again and ask them about Baator. Then we go back to Sonja.”

Stiles called his father to inform him that he will stay in LA for a few days. Then rented a room in a nearby motel to stay at with Peter.

\--

The night was filled with dreams of Planes, of shadows wearing plaid, of malicious laughter… Stiles slept, but he felt like he had no rest at all. He half suspected Peter being a little shit with him, but he had no time to think about that as he woke in his bed to a… sound? Then came the knocking on the door again.

“It’s the midget.” came Peter’s voice from next to him on the bed. Stiles’ sight was still blurry and his head was still not in the game of waking up.

“The wha…” he groaned, rubbing his eyes.

“Stiles, are you awake yet? I have come to take you as I felt we had a rough departure the other day.” came Romeo’s voice. Stiles froze. How the fuck this guy knew where they stayed? He looked at Peter who didn’t seem too concerned about this question.

“He’s powerful, and you’re leaking your magic everywhere you go.” the wolf commented in a shrug.

“Why didn’t you tell me?!” Stiles hissed, rubbing his face. “Yeah, I- uuh just a sec!” he shouted toward the door for Romeo.

In a few minutes Stiles got himself in presentable shape and opened the door for Romeo. The boy was wearing his usual “uniform”: the plaid patterned jacket with golden buttons and the huge cape was hanging from his shoulders. Anyone else would have felt like an idiot, but not Romeo.

“I apologize for barging in on you like this, but I have felt a kind of bond between us after our meeting, Stiles. I wanted to personally escort you for our rehearsal today.” Romeo said as they got into the jeep. Stiles offered Romeo a ride, suspecting he was flying to the motel and didn’t use the bus... “If you had any kind of negative impression of my team I apologize, they are very… how should I put it…”

“Freaky? “ Peter offered from the backseat. He wasn’t in the  best of moods and Stiles knew why.  Peter hated Romeo, he hated Bacchus, and he hated this all.

“Artistic.” Romeo said as if he had an epiphany. Peter snorted. “They have their own ways of expressing themselves and their magic.”

“Yeah, so…” Stiles cleared his throat. “So this club… the drama club…”

“The Dark Drama Club.”

“Yes that-- so it’s the name of your circle?”

“You could say that, it’s not exactly a circle. It basically started out as a club, but now it’s a kind of circle, yes. In Japan they have a bit more respect for magic users as I noticed.” Romeo said. Stiles licked his lips. Again, he felt jealous. He had no idea what he could have done if he’d had support from the very beginning with his magic. Maybe he’d be like Bacchus, or even better… “Sometimes I play. But I also write poems, spells and scenarios.” Romeo continued oblivious of Stiles’ bitterness..

“Spells…?” Peter frowned. If Stiles wouldn’t know him better he’d think the familiar was impressed a little. Stiles sighed, thinking about how powerful one had to be to write spells just like that. “Do you have any finished spells?” the wolf asked.

“Nope!” Romeo grinned proudly. “But I’m working on them. My plays are far more popular on school grounds.” he added, just in case.

“But it means you have a Spellbook of your own… That’s amazing.” Stiles looked at Romeo for a moment.

“It’s not a book until it’s finished.” Romeo sighed dramatically.

“I’d like to see it one day, Romeo.” Stiles shrugged.

“Only in exchange of yours, young boy! Spells from Elysium must be beautiful and amazing. None of my team members’ magic is from Elysium.” Romeo said with a kind smile. “By the way, my real name is Kousuke.” he added in a different tone. Stiles only realized it weeks later, that when Romeo… Kousuke introduced himself, there was no magic in his words.

“Nice to meet you, Kousuke.” Stiles smiled a little. Romeo grinned back at him.

The more Kousuke spoke, somehow Stiles started to realize how he could collect a band of those misfits. Romeo had a voice people would listen to and the kindest smile that told people everything will be okay.

“Can you tell me what magic you all have?” Stiles asked as they parked in the theater’s empty parking lot.

“My magic is of Arborea. That should satisfy your curiosity for now as it’s not my place to speak for the others. Now, let’s get inside.” Kousuke switched to Romeo with ease and that’s when Stiles realized he lost him for that day.

Stiles and Peter followed Romeo inside. It was a small theater place, most probably rented out to traveling theater groups and other kinds of entertainment. Stiles had a slight idea how it would look like, but he wasn’t prepared of what welcomed them. The moment they entered the stage room it was… magical. There was a spell on it which made it bigger on the inside and looking like a room of the Palace of Versailles. Too fancy for Stiles’ tastes, but apparently it wasn’t bothering the rest of Bacchus. Romeo sighed as if he had just arrived home.

“Back home there are more of us, all the minions would be running around rehearsing. But I am still delighted that my faithful friends and my lover is here with me!” Romeo sighed proudly, looking over the room.

“Look at that now…” Peter muttered, taking in the room with a surprise. “Younger than you and still, years ahead.” he teased.

“I summoned a fucking wolf familiar, so shut your piehole.” Stiles hissed, bumping his shoulder to Peter’s as a warning.

“Bacchus, listen to me!” Romeo started, clapping his hands to get the  attention of the boys on stage.

“Oh, Romeo! The night was so long without you!” Juliet basically squealed holding out his arms for Romeo as an invitation.

“Juliet!” the boy shouted, hurrying to him, basically flying, up on the stage. “Every minute, every hour we spend away is torturing my soul, I count the seconds until we meet again.”

“Alright, that can’t be real.” Stiles sighed, eying the two of them with a frown.

“Have you read Romeo and Juliet, idiot?” Macbeth asked with a snort, appearing next to him. “Those two are the same.”

“And in the end they die together?” Peter asked with a snort. Macbeth just eyed him as if he was serious.

“Oh no no no, only one died.” Puck laughed out loud, alarming, like an evil ghost.

“What?” Peter asked in union with Stiles, but no one answered. The silence was too tense for a moment. It felt like they stepped into something they shouldn’t have. Thankfully, Romeo and Juliet didn’t hear them so Romeo saved the situation.

“So, what I wanted to say is… our guest here wishes to know more about Bacchus! Isn’t that wonderful? Such an audience we never had now, this is your chance to shine!” Romeo said, twirling around with his cape on stage. “I will write the scenarios for all of your battles and oh, my friends, it will be marvelous and excellent and perfect!”

“What, excuse me, battles…?” Stiles frowned, tilting his head to the side.

“Oh yes…” Romeo blinked at him. “You’re here to battle for what you want, no?”

“I… no, I thought… I just…”

“That you just come here and we help you? Aww, poor baby didn’t know how the rules work, boo hoo!” Puck fake cried then laughed out loud again with that loud shriek.

“You’re _battlemages_.” Peter muttered as if he just realized something.

“Oh, that puppy is clever.” Juliet chuckled. “I like him. I want him, Romeo.”

“What a marvelous idea my love!” Romeo gasped, turning to Juliet for a moment. “You truly are the sun in our lives, shining your wisdom to us!”

“Oh Romeo, you’re my muse, never forget that!” Juliet winked at him. Romeo turned back to Stiles and Peter.

“So it’s settled. If we win, we take the wolf.” he told Stiles.

“Wait what--- what’s happening?” Stiles asked, holding up his hands. He turned to Peter. “What the fuck are they talking about?!” he hissed. “What’s a battlemage?!”

“In the old times a battlemage was a mage who went with an army and fought just like the rest of them. I believe this trend lately turned into smaller fights too, between mages. Their rule is to battle for information, spells and other privileges. I think there’s also a tournament of some sort.” Peter muttered looking over the team.

“The fuck… why didn’t you tell me?!” Stiles gasped, turning to Romeo.

“Well… I thought you knew?” the boy frowned. “I mean, why would you come to us then?”

“I…” Stiles swallowed looking at Peter for a moment. Using him as a betting chip? He can’t do that…

“Now Master, there are some rules to the battles of the mages.” Peter started slowly, looking over their newfound enemies. “You can withdraw—“

“But then you lose the puppy!” Puck grinned.

“…you can accept the challenge, and you can also ask for time.” Peter finished, narrowing his eyes at Puck.

“I need time!” Stiles said before he could think.

“Oh that means you accept the challenge?” Romeo asked, perking up. “You don’t even know the rules.”

“That doesn’t mean he’s not affected by them, my love.“ Juliet said, stepping to Romeo. “He’d come here for information, maybe he can also learn something from the battle? Let’s give him some time? Maybe a week? So he can prepare for this battle and lose with his chin high.” he smiled too sweetly for Stiles’ taste.

“Marvelous idea, Juliet, you are truly my soul!” Romeo sighed, kissing Juliet’s cheek. “Very well, you heard the lady!” he said, stepping closer to the edge of the stage, toward Stiles. “By the rules I give you one week to prepare and tell your pet goodbye. I’ll also tell Sonja to not look for a familiar for us anymore as we’re going to have one.”

“You’re awfully confident.” Peter muttered, raising an eyebrow.

“Now, why wouldn’t we be? No one has beaten us for a long time.” Macbeth snorted. Though Stiles could feel the tension in the air for a moment again.

“Either way, you have one week to accept our challenge. You will have to beat all of us, one by one for the help you need.”

“What if I send back Peter to the Astral Plane, then you can’t have him.” Stiles crossed his arms.

“That wouldn’t change the fact that you have to give the summoning spell to us. The spell and the familiar both will be ours upon our victory.” Romeo said, straightening his back. He looked proud and confident.

“Are you fucking kidding me…” Stiles sighed, brushing his hair back with his hand. He didn’t expect this, Sonja didn’t tell him that he would have to fight in order to help Peter. If he loses here, he will lose everything he’s been searching for, there will be no point anymore. “Okay… right, alright…” he sighed, rubbing his eyes. “I-I’ll think of something.” he muttered. “I’ll think of something…” he repeated, but he felt a panic attack grip him slowly, but steadily.

Stiles had no idea when he left the theater, but the next thing he remembered was Peter’s eyes looking into his.

“What have we done…?” Stiles heard himself ask.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bacchus are not mine, they are from the Japanese Air Gear Musical. :3

**Author's Note:**

> I struggled a lot with this fic. There may be major mistakes in it, but... that's life.
> 
> I apologize for everyone who is familiar with D&D's Planes. I took the liberty to violate them and use them as I want in this fic.


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